That Night In Oxford
by ameliapemerson
Summary: Hello. I hope you like my AU ( modern) M/M story set in Oxford and Downton where two strangers meet, become lovers and then friends. Please read to find out the rest. This is my first fanfic of any kind. Grateful for all reviews Update: Ch 17 is up. Secret Santa fic with additional bits integrated into the whole story! Thanks to Patsan for the MM secret Santa idea.
1. Chapter 1

"C'mon Crawley, get a move on, or we'll miss everything". Matthew's friend and colleague JS Cowan grumbled. 'I am hurrying..." Matthew replied as he looked over his wardrobe. The private gathering they were to attend was in part a welcome back to the college as Matthew had been away for over a year. And he intended to look his best.

The Master of Oxford's Lonsdale College arranged with the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs Office of Legal Aid to send post grad students and registered lawyers to Afghanistan to aid local NGOs in offering legal advice. Matthew Crawley took up the offer as he held a position as a research don in the history of law and a part time tutor/lecturer in the evening program. He had accepted the year and a half advisee position in Afghanistan at the urging of his sister Kate who worked with several UK human rights organizations. In other words she guilted him into it.

It had been a dizzying experience full of unfamiliar sights and sensations . Most of it, really, he admitted to himself, had been uneventful with long periods of dull paperwork and filing writs and briefs. But in the quietest of ordinary tasks would arrive the sound of shell explosions and return gun fire that punctuated the air with dust and residue. Matthew and the other civilian volunteers remained confined in the army compound for their own safety. He rarely left although he had hoped to go and explore the capital of Kabul or visit the historic sites that he glimpsed from the armoured truck that carried them everywhere they needed to go. Bomb threats and sporadic military checks of their facilities for hidden IEDs or other weaponry had also become surprisingly routine. He felt he done good work aiding organizations like Oxfam International in humanitarian and educational relief. Matthew managed to exchange with another lawyer for the last six months of his sabbatical from college so that he could return temporarily to Oxford and then to spend time researching in Irish and English archives to complete his study of Anglo-Irish relations in the interwar years. This project had been on the back burner for too long and the publisher of the academic press was getting antsy about its completion.

But tonight…tonight he was going to have fun. He hummed somewhat tunelessly as he threw on a pair of khaki trousers and a slate blue shirt …hesitating slightly about whether to put on a tie. He looked over at the man sitting on the divan in his cluttered and slightly musty college rooms. JS Cowan, his mentor and father figure, nodded slightly. He put on a tie and jacket. Matthew, as a teen always too awkward for his lanky frame, was now fit from daily runs around the compound. He decided not to shave and left what Cowan called his vanity stubble neatly trimmed.

"If you keep up these ablutions we're going to be late" Cowan grumbled. This department party officially was to confirm the contract with Old Church St. Design, one of the top firms in the UK or so he was being told by his old college mentor who was (in Matthew's not to be said aloud opinion) droning on about the details of measurements and space management. He was already anticipating shedding the (monastically sober) demeanor he had maintained in Kabul for some (slightly…but responsibly inebriated) secular enjoyments. "I think you are preparing for some" slight pause for effect and to get Matthew's attention "…female companionship are we" he chuckled "to use the polite term." Matthew chuckled and gazed at him with a bemused half smile. "Well such companionship" he hesitated over the somewhat obsolete term…but decided he liked it…"was decidedly lacking in the celibate atmosphere of a military compound." He clapped Cowan on the shoulder. "Ready?" He asked cocking his head to one side. "I certainly am."

XX

Mary looked around the space that was about to be transformed into a multimedia center suitable for 21st century meeting rooms with a library readapted to access eBooks and digitized archival materials. Her job was to also ensure that the space maintained this 'digital revolution' within the confines of the traditional gate towers and medieval battlements décor. It had been tricky to mask the technology within the ambiance of a quiet library. But the design, as laid out in the presentation she had made the previous week to the master of the college, had been accepted. She smiled softly to herself….yes this was going to be challenging but fulfilling experience. Given the tumult of her family life recently this work came as a welcome distraction and a way out mentally of her own thoughts about her future. She thought she had made the right decision, both for herself and her family, and that she could handle the both public and private consequences .But now that she was having such success in her professional life… some doubt crept in. She brushed off the thoughts and blamed them on nerves and her natural disposition to have everything in her life orderly and safe.

Tonight, she decided tonight would be just fun. To interact with the Lonsdale faculty and staff in a social setting would be different and less stressful than the hectic work schedule and organizational management meetings they had been maintaining. "Maybe" Mary thought to herself as she dressed (casual but elegant in a mid length skirt and open blouse) " maybe it was time to cut loose." The thought amused her as put on her coat. A room full of near strangers where she could converse and interact without expectation or custom. People who regarded her solely as a managing partner in Old Church St. Design and not as Lady Mary Crawley, heir to a bankrupt estate and betrothed to Ronan Napier, private banker and consultant to the government, in what was already being dubbed by the more trendier mags and websites as the "Second Wedding of the Century."


	2. Chapter 2

_Here is the next installment. Thanks to everyone who read, favorited, or followed this story. Thanks for the constructive criticism. I think I know where this story is going…but I may make some changes along the way. Many thanks to my beta reader (she knows who she is). I do not own any of these characters._

_XX_

Mary, pleased that the caterers had shown on time and the three piece ensemble complied with her eclectic selections of jazz and classics, made her way through the gathered heads of departments, tutors, grad students and staff. She greeted members of the committee that hired her firm and pointed out the diorama scale model of the refitted library that was one of the central attractions in the room.

One member of the St. James Library Advisory Committee she wanted to avoid however, turned out to be the first man who approached her.

"Hullo Mary," Ken Wray said. "We've done fantastic work here. We should slip out and celebrate on our own." His eyebrows arched up in an invitation.

Wray wrapped his arm around Mary's shoulder. She flinched, stiffened, and slipped out from under his arm.

"God," she thought, "How dare he take credit for her work!" This was getting very old this feeling that life had slammed her with situations and …ugh…men who thought they owned her. She had to take control over events that threatened to take away everything she had earned in her career. But her family meant so much to her. Her home. How much, she asked herself, was she willing to sacrifice for them.

"Okay. " She told herself shaking her head. "You said tonight was going to be fun." She turned to Ken.

"Thank you, Ken. Why don't you go get some food from the buffet before it's all gone?" She desperately wanted to get away from this guy. She considered him a real creep whose oily charms and lame come-ons she suffered throughout the process of ironing out the details of the refit. The idea that he thought he appealed to women, particularly amused her. She thought him slimy and out and out repulsive. Such people she realized were natural components of her work, but if at all possible, this evening she was not going to be caught in his clutches.

Ducking out of his attempted conversation about dinner with a lie about having to deal with a catering issue, Mary sought refuge at the make-shift bar set up in the atrium of the library. Drinking only Evian to keep her wits about her she surveyed the room.

XX

Matthew shook out of his coat in the lobby, pulled his hands through his hair to smooth out the unruly curls, and walked in with Cowan. Cowan headed straight for the food while Matthew was immediately surrounded by friends and colleagues greeting and welcoming his back. He eventually made his way to the atrium.

The bar was well stocked with an array of spirits, ales and wines. In looking over the display, Matthew licked his lips and swallowed. "Maybe this responsible drinking" he thought, "should be reconsidered. it had been a while. … and the department was footing the bill."

He chose to start with something light in case he had to interact with the Master of Lonsdale who was moving in his direction. He gulped down the vodka tonic and said "Master…good to see you again."

While chatting with Alan Lundquist, somewhat pompous but efficient manager of the law program, Matthew noticed someone also at the bar and looking in his direction. He quickly finished his conversation promising to go see Lundquist early the next morning before leaving for Dublin and walked over to the woman who was drinking a tonic water.

"Hello." He smiled, pointing to her water in a glass with a sprig of mint, "keeping a clear head this evening for someone special?"

He grimaced. "Hell, man," he thought, "are you that out of practice…that was lame." He shook off the self-doubt and looked down at the blonde from under his azure tinted blue eyes and gave his best smile.

She shrugged and said "well yes, as a matter of fact I am. Thanks though" and she brushed past him to embrace a man who had just entered the room.

Matthew was left standing with a now frozen smile still in place. He called out, rather unnecessarily, "Have a good evening then."

He rolled his eyes upward only to gaze down into the dark eyes of another woman who had been hidden behind the blonde. He gasped …stunned not just by her beautiful looks but the amused smile that played at the corners of her mouth and the assured carriage with which she stood and took in the man who had just been given the brush off.

Mary looked directly at Matthew "Ouch." She said. "Does that puppy dog look usually get you what you want?"

Matthew had to laugh as he took in the possibility the evening might not be a wash after all. He thought, "this woman is mesmerizing." Dark eyes, brunette hair, but with a confidence and intelligence that make him just a little weak in the knees. Deciding not to say that as an opening line Matthew simply looked her back in the eyes as she grinned.

"Matthew Crawley" he said. Mary hesitated just slightly at the name and responded "Mary Levinson. Hello. I don't think I know you but you've been talking to Alan do you know him."

Matthew, surprised at calling the Master of Lonsdale by his first name, said "Yes. I've just returned from year's volunteer work abroad but usually I'm a research fellow at the college and teach a little in the evenings."

"Oh yes" Mary responded now remembering Lundquist telling her about the return of their long lost don from, as he called it, the wilds of Afghanistan. She never heard the actual name.

"Our firm has been hired to do the renovations to the library and conference centre and I'm in charge of managing the interior redo."

"A big job" Matthew said "but I've always preferred the charm of the original design." The Master and he had actually had quite a few words about the necessity of these changes to accommodate 21st century technological needs of the students. Matthew had grumbled and although he ultimately complied with the plan, he thought most students today were just lazy and entitled little twats who wanted their answers spoon fed from their tutors or the internet. They would be much better off getting their information from research in the library archives and to get lost in the books as he did as an undergrad.

"I am," he admitted, " a Luddite, at least in its modern interpretation of someone suspicious of the efficacy of modern technology. I didn't intend to become an old fuddy duddy at such a young age" he shrugged. "But there it is."

He put his arm out to Mary and suggested they sit down on some chairs in a secluded spot where it was easier to hear and have a conversation.

"I had a student position at the Bodleian and was inordinately happy grubbing about among the books and old documents. They had been worn and in need of gentle care." In fact being present in the old medieval library, the architecture, the beauty of the old buildings were among his happiest memories and what spurred him to pursue the history of law rather go through the process of becoming a solicitor and doing the drudge work at the Old Bailey. He realized he was in danger of sounding just like Cowan earlier, droning on and even possibly insulting this woman who had spent such time meticulously redesigning the old structure.

"Sorry," he said shaking his head. "I've not had anything to drink in quite a while and I now seem to be babbling on. I didn't mean to be such a dull boy." He looked around, however, still with a slight pained look…concerned… and said hesitatingly, "Just how much do you intend to change?"

Mary, feeling more happy than she had in a very long time, tried to reassure the man who was taking up her evening when she should really be mingling with the other guests. "Um…well my plan intends to combine the ambiance of a traditional library space with the needs of the 21st century."

She thought immediately after "God that sounded straight out of her power point presentation." Gazing at Matthew she had to admit he was a most handsome man. He combined a giddy, enthusiastic, disarming charm- that she was not so sure he did not deliberately utilize exactly to his advantage…not necessarily in a negative way … but one that came more naturally than it probably should with a mature, intelligent face, and laughing blue eyes. The timbre of his voice, deep but with gentleness to it, was also completely putting her off her game.

Matthew looked expectedly at her.

She tried again, thinking of her home which she also had to admit she loved right down to its tattered rugs and outmoded phone system. "I've made sure it will be state of the art without losing its old soul." She assured him.

"A designer after my own heart," he said grinning rather unashamedly. And both knew that this was going to be a special night.

XX

Mary and Matthew proceeded to learn a great deal about each other during the course of the evening. He discovered she loved the bitter taste of Negronis while he preferred an ale or whisky neat. She learned that he could keep up with her discussion on the aesthetics of design from Ruskin's The Stones of Venice to Bauhaus modernity but only because he had seen a telly doc on the subject. He thrilled that shared a hidden love of '80s pop bands although she preferred Wham! and the Police to his Eurythmics and, embarrassingly, he admitted Madonna . "I outgrew it" he reassured her "long before she started affecting an accent." They were so engrossed in quizzing each other on the recent introduction of the new Doctor, that she forgave him his obsessive knowledge of the Ashes of the mid '70s.

The conversation flowed easily and naturally. Neither spoke of their present situations. Caught up in the moments of initial discovery of mutual interests and attraction, they reveled instead in discovering each other.

"Getting back to the subject of the James Library redesign, please say at least you won't take down the lovers." Matthew was referring to the rather poor sculpted imitations of Greek busts and statuary of mythological lovers that dotted the alcove above their heads.

"I grew rather fond of staring at Andromeda in my time as an undergrad." He looked somewhat embarrassed at this admission.

She looked at him. "You mean the one chained naked to a rock as she won't marry a man her father has ordered her to." There was a bitter quality to her question although she tried to keep it light.

"Well if I recall correctly that didn't happen and Andromeda was rescued."

"Hmmmm," she said resigned. "By another man….why are all women in such circumstances having to be rescued?"

Matthew looked quizzically at her. "Surely that doesn't matter today. ...What's wrong? I do apologize for being somewhat besotted by her. I was 18 and really rather shallow in my thoughts with regards to her situation. Can I apologize 10 years later?" His blue eyes really did look concerned that he had offended her in some way.

Mary sighed. She had no intention of telling Matthew, who obviously had no idea who she really was, her whole life story and how it connected to that long ago myth of a heroine in distress. Mary knew that she should tell him the whole truth on her engagement and the publicity surrounding the event. She preferred to have things out in the open, to control the environment around her as much as she could. Yet, she admitted to herself, she had allowed recent events go on without challenge. A pawn in the game of money and social titles.

Looking at Matthew, this near stranger, she wanted to just be in the moment a little longer. To prolong a conversation that was intellectually engaging and a flirtation that bordered on madness.

Being out of control in this fashion was unlike her, yet she admitted, shedding her mask of indifference was freeing…opening her to sensations she rarely allowed herself to experience. Flirting with this man, teasing him and just talking with him came easier than she expected.

"In any event," Matthew concluded, "this is getting far too serious. I'll get us some refills and maybe we can ditch this and get something to eat at the café around the corner.

Mary, waiting in the atrium, shivered slightly. She texted her assistant who reassured her that it was fine that she slip out. "As a matter of fact," Gwen said, "you earned it. It's been a spectacular success. Get out before the windbags' rope you into a discussion on the crown molding."

What was she doing…leaving a gathering which admittedly was on its last legs…but one she normally would feel obliged to stay to the bitter end. Why, instead, did she feel on top of the world. Things were moving too fast. Her normally practiced air of nonchalance had slipped and she felt vulnerable and open to this man.

Matthew, also caught in the moment, did not have any problems in leaving. He had made his appearance and promised the Master to return in the morning to deal with his immediate trip to Ireland. It was, after all, only a six week research trip. If all went well he could return not only to finish up writing his book and get ready for the new term, he and Mary would have all the time in the world to get to know one another. This excited him beyond anything he had expected.

In moving behind her to help slip on the sleeves of her coat, Matthew's lips grazed the tips of her hair and he inhaled her perfume scent. He felt an immediate arousal.

"Steady does it Crawley...you're just a bit too eager." It had been so long since he was with a woman. He exhaled slowly but the next intake of breath caught her perfume and he was lost again.

Mary checked her messages one more time to make sure Gwen had her mobile number and agreed that the party was just about over. They finished bundling up against the chill of the night air and left by the front entrance, giggling and laughing about nothing in particular. Matthew took her hand and turned in the direction of the café.


	3. Chapter 3

_Here is the next installment. Note that I changed the rating to "M" ...just to be sure. Hope you like it. I am working on some of my typos...I keep noticing more and fixing them!_

XX

The café was half empty with students eating at tables and the employees eager for them all to go so they could clean up. Mary and Matthew sat across from each other in a booth, a plate of sandwiches and a pot of hot coffee between them. Each not sure how the rest of the evening was to play out, there was an intensity and an unspoken layer of anticipatory desire in their respective silence and attention to the food on the plates.

The silence, in which they occasionally looked each other in the eye, was punctured finally as Matthew's mobile chirped a TV theme ringtone. They looked up, startled by the sudden noise.

He took it from his pocket and checked the message. It was from his sister reminding him to call him about their lunch date set for the next day. He looked up.

Mary, a smirk growing at the sides of her mouth, mimed a "0h" sound.

He said, with a sheepish grin, "what?"

"You have a mobile." She responded with just a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "What about your anti-technology stance."

"Ah well, I oppose more the dumbing down technology brings to modern society, the lack of effort to accomplish tasks that used to require thought and effort and attention to detail. This may sound like a cop out, and I recognize that, "he grinned impishly, "but at the same time I've discovered friends and family insist I keep in touch…and" he said, "I do get instant updates from the Test matches at Lords."

"It is," he acknowledged, "unfortunately, rather addictive. "

They both laughed, cutting the tension between them. He stood up slightly to put the phone back in his coat pocket.

Matthew leaned over the table and brushed against her arm in the process. He looked up. She smiled. He took her hand and gently held it and used his fingers to rub the inner palm of hers.

"Should we get out of here?" He asked, huskily. His voice catching on the last words. His voice betraying his desire.

"Yes". She responded. Let's get out of here." She enjoyed that much more than she thought possible. A simple sandwich and coffee.

They left a generous tip, paid up, and left through the double doors.

On the street they just started walking, seemingly aimlessly. Yet he knew where he was leading her. If not consciously, certainly with a purpose that he could no longer control. He smiled, hesitating. "Let's go through the park."

Mary, looking up into the dark, cloudy night sky, said," Oh no, it's starting to rain and I left my umbrella at the library." She looked at him and he was still smiling.

Mary said, "What is it? Do you like getting soaked?"

"I don't mind the rain." Matthew chuckled. "We'll just have to get wet." He said, "there's a shelter in the park. Here, around the corner." They stopped briefly in the gazebo's shelter. "I think it will stop in a few minutes."

She stood, watched the rain, and hummed one of the tunes played at the gathering, an old Gershwin tune, "_Someone to Watch Over Me_."

"I think I have that," he finally ventured, making the next move "… I've got that on an LP. "

She looked decidedly amused at that comment. "I think my parents used to have a stereo in our sitting room. We got rid of it ages ago. You really have to move with the times."

He scrunched his face. Wrapping his arms around himself to block the chill, he said, "Records are as close as one gets to the true sound of live music. None of that digitized, homogenized, auto tuned crap they have out there now."

But," Mary responded continuing to argue her point. "Digitized recordings get rid of the cracking, popping and scratching noises. You are left with just the pure sound of the instruments. It's a superior sound."

He snorted in mock disgust.

Without meaning to Matthew's attitude touched a nerve in Mary. His proclivity to find fault in modern advances went to the heart of a conflict she had. She insisted upon keeping her professional life, grounded in the world of modern technology, separate from her personal, life full of a history that tugs her back to her family home, a life ground, she increasingly thought, in the past. A past she wasn't sure she desired to continue to participate in. But ties she had not yet cut.

So, in her mind, she martialed her argument for the future. The rain stopped. They continued walking and debating along the way.

"Modernity…" she started. "allows an ease of access to medical and technological equipment to cure disease, bring people together, to build better facilities to help more people access education. My company's dedicated to just those things."

"Don't get me wrong, "Matthew countered," I don't romanticize the past. I study it. I teach it. And I understand that modern technology has made lives better, and it's necessary," struggling with his words... "but I don't like so much that I see around me. The way social media has taken over our lives. The way digitized color enhancement and photo shop give us an imitation of how we should live. A perfect existence, according to the magazines." He said the last words with cutting sarcasm.

"An existence," he said quite fervently, "whose life has been kicked out of it."

He continued, animatedly, "take away the trueness of it, the realness of it….take all that away and all you've got is …is…a projected reality. "He rubbed his fingers inside his hand, scrunching it into a ball, in a gesture of trying to pull the words out… "a false reality. To truly live, one must take all that life offers… as it happens…not shape it into your own perfect image of what life should be."

He stood rigid, surprised at his own passion on the subject. He laughed, trying to break the tension and shook his head.

Mary, however, was just getting started. Scoffing slightly she said, "more easily said than done in the real world. You must know that." She fought back. "Life just doesn't work that way. You think you can live it the way you want. But even you must admit that obligations… commitments, the pops and scratches of your record…get in the way."

She finished fumbling over her words to make her point. "You make the best of it. Smooth out what you can. Accept the rest for what it is."

He responded more passionately than she expected, practically spitting the words, "Accept it? No. What are you left with?" He asked, scrunching his face again. "Is that what life has become?"

Responding more vehemently than she meant to, "Yes, Matthew, Yes. You have to make do. Life's a bitch. We all have to deal with it." Was the evening going to be a wash after all? She angrily railed against the idea that this one chance was slipping through her fingers.

He felt it. He felt her breathe out. As if trying to rein her emotions.

He stopped. Put down his hands that had been gesticulating in a circular motion in front of his body, down again by his sides. "I'm sorry. I get carried away sometimes. I've always known I'm out of touch with the century in which I'm living. Born too late, my sister always says."

He looked down at her, smiling. Trying to recapture their earlier playfulness, he said with mock petulance, "But I will never give up my records."

"Damn it," Mary thought," I'm arguing here…stop looking adorable."

He cupped her face in his hands. His long fingers gently touched her cheeks stroking them so delicately that she barely felt them. Yet with a touch that reached into her body and made her shudder. She exhaled sharply.

"Where are we" she asked. Shaking the feeling that his closeness brought, "we stopped walking."

"Um…" Matthew hesitated licking his lips and puckering before he spoke. "We're at my college rooms. Upstairs. Two flights."

Thinking, "… keep it light…no expectations." He said, "Would you come in?" Hesitating over the words, he swallowed hard.

Matthew looked at her and tried to break the tension by saying "you can come in and make fun of my record collection." Hesitating again, he ventured, "I'll play you something. And I'll make some hot chocolate for a night cap. I can give you a towel to dry your hair."

Her hair, even wet soaked and hanging down the sides of her face and across her forehead, he thought beautiful. He pushed a couple of strands back from her face.

They looked. They knew. Both thinking the same thoughts, "it's too soon, too rash. I don't do this. I'm not like this. Yes. Yes. Maybe just a little while longer."

"I'd like you to come in." Matthew said finally.

She just nodded in agreement and they ascended the stairs. He fumbled with the key in the old door lock. "Damn thing always jams." He said. "There."

Walking into a cold room, Mary heard him mutter half to himself, "Oh Jesus I left the heat off….I've not been here in a while…the room's a mess… Let me get some things straight. I've got some clean towels around her somewhere. In my bag?" Matthew babbled when nervous and he was certainly nervous now.

He put his hands through his wet hair which did not help the way Mary was thinking at the moment. He looked totally endearing standing there, wet, throwing things off chairs and nattering nervously.

He turned and smiled," I'm sorry…I'm suddenly very nervous. I… "He pulled his fingers down over his face and shook his head.

She put her arms out to him. His wet shirt clung to his toned, fit body. She gasped at his strength as he gathered her up in his arms and gently placed a kiss on her cheek. In her ear he asked simply, "are we sure what we're doing?"

She answered, "no but I don't want to stop." She turned to his lips and took them into hers and kissed him, making each shudder. They exhaled, suddenly aware of their closeness. Their breath on each other. He pulled her closer.

They continued to touch, to feel, to embrace this moment, a moment that might be fleeting or might last a life time. To capture it, to want to exist in it, without thinking of the consequences.

"Let me get you that towel." He said finally. "I'll microwave us some hot chocolate. Packaged I'm afraid…but enough to warm you."

She let go of his arms thinking "…all the time in the world…tonight."

She moved about the room…his room…trying to get to know him in an evening. Some photos of a young woman with an older woman… "Your sister? " she asked, hoping not to sound too intrusive. At the same time mocking to herself "…who are you to be jealous?"

She leaned in to get a better look. Matthew turned to answer her question and nearly scalded his hand when the cup spilled over as he took it from the microwave. Her back was to him. He looked her up and down and did a sharp intake of breath. She was stunning.

"Yes," he finally managed to get out, "and my mother" Bringing over the cup, he continued, "they live in Manchester."

He pulled his hands through his hair again. Nervous tic she surmised….as is his tendency to put his hands up to his eyes and squeezing them as if he's trying to pull thoughts out of his head. "I had to throw a lot stuff in here when I gave up my apartment. Really sorry about the mess."

Some photos, mementoes of past travels littered the desk along with books, papers and thumb drives. In the corner of the room a record turntable stood on its own stand, with a selection of oldies and classics scattered about. Walking over to it, Mary switched it on, selecting "_Unforgettable_," to play, and adjusting volume, she turned around.

Matthew, hearing the music, looked up from his attempted straightening, and smiled. "I did warn you." Cocking his head and locking eyes he moved towards her, and almost as a dare, held out his arms. "….want to dance?" He laughed , and, so did she.

One night to learn each other. One night to be vulnerable, to be free to dance.

She put her arms around his neck and clasped them. He edged his arms around her back…closer and closer…Kissing again…touching his lips with hers.

They moved towards the make shift bed. His hands unconsciously moved against her breasts and he shuddered in expectation. She smiled as she felt his need. She felt it too.

Matthew's sofa bed actually that was full of clothes from when he had dumped his suitcase earlier.

"Ah" he sighed….giving them another chance to stop. "…let me..." Matthew's voice trailed off as he threw the clothes on the chair where they almost immediately fell onto the floor.

He turned towards her hesitating "…should I…should we…" fumbling with his words.

"Mary … I want this" He finally said. But at the same time thinking Matthew's mind was racing, thinking "…what are you doing? What are you saying? Asking her permission…yes that's it…giving her a chance to say no…."

Mary looked at him. Every part of her body was alive to him. She tried to cut off the debate in her head. She had decisions to make. Decisions, she knew, that were to affect the entire course of her life. Decisions that family members persuaded her were in her best interest. But, she thought bitterly, theirs as well.

This decision was hers. Was theirs, in this moment, alone.

She looked at him. She heard him say, "Mary…I want this." The way he said her name. Softly, with a catch in his throat, his eyes that looked at her with desire. A stare that was both insistent and gentle.

"Yes." She said, simply. "Yes we should."

They fell into each other's lips kissing more passionately, more intensely than before. Matthew tugged at his shirt, releasing the tails of his button down from his pants. He moved closer to Mary. She began to unbutton his shirt. He lay down on the bed, face up, and brought Mary down on top of him. She finished unbuttoning his shirt pulling it off. He removed her blouse, unbuttoning it, slowly, deliberately. He wanted to take his time but his arousal was getting harder in his pants. He moved against her and she felt it.

Gasping at the intensity of his desire, she tugged at his belt and undid the zipper. He threw his pants off and switched places, bringing Mary around on her back and he lay on top of her. Finishing unbuttoning her shirt, while her leg entwined his and moved seductively along his backside, he lifted her chemise and touched the tips of her breasts that quickly became erect. Slowly moving his fingers around and gently pinching the nipple, he began to suck on her left breast as his other hand tickled her chest with his fingertips.

She began a thrumming sound at the back of her throat. It enthralled him and he sucked more intensely and began to undo her skirt, freeing her body from the undergarments. She moved his hand to where she needed it to be and he began to rub her center until he could feel the moist passion her body emitted. Mary moved against him, whispering softly that it felt so good. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold in his arousal without release. Mary, pushing against him, said," now, now," slowly, almost imperceptibly. He entered her and they both moved in unison, heat and passion unguarded, moaning in pleasure louder and pushing against her now with his strong body and arms above her and instinctively pleasuring her while seeking his own relief. Pushing in and out, they felt the same intensity of building passion, and pushing in even further as she took his backside and pushed it against her moving him further and further in; he climaxed and pushed one last time as she too came with a shuddering release.

Matthew fell down on top of her. The pressure of his weight was only momentary as he moved to her side. They both lay, spent and still recovering.

"Mary," He began to speak.

"Shhh," Mary responded, "not yet." She moved to put her arms around him. They rested for a few minutes. Matthew, exhausted from the entire day's activities, finally succumbed to sleep. Mary, smiling softly, napped beside him.

XX  
A couple of hints about the next chapter…  
_During the night they awoke and slowly renewed their passion this time taking the time to get to know each other's bodies…  
When Matthew woke the next morning, Mary was gone. A note on her pillow read simply, "this is for the best. I will never forget our night in Oxford."_


	4. Chapter 4

_The morning after…  
Thanks again to everyone who is reading this story. _

XX

Matthew, realizing his arm was caught under Mary's body, tried to lift it out without waking her. It did not work. Mary moved, which allowed him to slip his arm out, but she then murmured and opened her eyes.

He smiled. "Hello," Matthew whispered. "I'm so sorry for falling asleep. I'd just got back from that long flight and the gathering…and…" he let the sentence go as Mary kissed his cheek and moved her fingers through his hair.

"I understand." Mary responded. They continued to embrace and he traced his fingers along her arm and around her shoulder in a slow, fluid movement than made her whole body tingle.

Mary understood more than she let on. She realized they had such a limited amount of time together. She had to get back to the real world. To her real life or, "The Situation" as she referred to it in her head. How was she to tell him? To let him into her secret. She scoffed silently, thinking "he'll know soon enough."

She was working herself into a worrying frenzy when she suddenly felt Matthew's lips nuzzling her neck and his hands moving slowly down her half covered body. He moved the sheet to get a better look at her. She gasped a little in the cold. He said, "Damn" softly, but then he moved the blankets up over her and himself until they were contained within its warmth. Their hands moved to discover each part of the other's body. His hand on her breasts. Her hand on his thigh. They embraced and continued to explore and satisfy.

He whispered "you're so lovely." And she cuddled against him for warmth until he fell asleep again.

Mary got up, dressed, wrote a quick note, and left the room trying to be as quiet as possible.

When she made it outside, the proverbial cold light of day as well as the real Oxford in March, struck her with force. The wind and the chill reflected her emotional instability. What had she done?

Alternately berating herself and setting up defense, she walked down the still quiet early morning street. She had not done anything like this since Uni. Although she was protected against pregnancy (that she did not need in her life at this moment), she realized what they did was dangerous and rather foolish. For all she knew he would he consider this a one night fling, a shagging he'll tell his friends about.

She could, she realized, very easily blame him for it. He had let a precarious situation get out of hand. He had, she could righteously assume, done this same thing before. He was an assured lover who seemed to know instinctively how to please her. If she could make herself believe this, maybe it wouldn't be so hard to let go. To let this night go.

She was not quite paparazzi material, yet, thank God, given where she was at this moment. Even so she certainly had to consider the consequences of this on her engagement announcement and the surrounding press coverage. She had always been press shy. Indeed she preferred to keep a low profile even when the family was at social events with royal participation or when her father was honoured by the queen for services to the country. He had been a serving officer in the Royal Artillery and later Territorial units until he retired recently.

And how would Matthew take it, to be all of a sudden an unknown party to a tabloid story. Lurid headlines -_An Oxford Love Triangle_, or _Wild Lady Mary's One Night Lover -_ran through her mind. "Oh God," she thought, "What had she gotten herself into."

She got a taxi and rushed back to her Kidlington condo to shower and get dressed. There was something she was supposed to do….

She exited the taxi when she heard the voice of her younger sister, Sybil, "There you are, Mary! Damn it we were supposed to be at The Wedding Shoppe a half hour ago. Wait a minute. Why are you outside? I've been banging on your door and you didn't answer any of my texts? You know after our meeting with Ethel we have to get to Downton before Granny arrives for dinner."

Mary rolled her eyes. She had turned her phone off. "I'm sorry. I was…" hesitating. " I…" she finally said, vaguely, "I was out."

She shrugged, gave Sybil a quick hug and changed the subject. "I'll just slip inside and change my clothes. I won't be a minute. We'll be on time. Don't worry."

Mary had completely forgotten about the meeting with the wedding planner Sybil had set up. She had been successful in putting off any engagement/wedding stuff for months, ever since the actual proposal notice had been issued by her family. Her father wanted her to set a date for the official engagement announcement soon so they could plan the gala party to accompany the pronouncement at Downton Abbey, the family home.

But Sybil wouldn't give it up. "What do you mean…? 'Out.'" She asked, wagging her finger at Mary, and smirking. "Ronan's out of the country. Where were you?" Sybil, her sweet but insightful sister, knew when Mary was lying. Each had learned to read the other's body language so that the simplest gesture could be intuited and analysed. "You know I took off from school today just to do this. And I have a medical terminology test on Friday."

Sybil gave Mary the once over.

"Look at you," Sybil continued. "You've obviously been out all night. Your hair's a mess… Hmmm," Sybil, too insightful again, "bed hair." She concluded, puckering her lips and smacking them, and rocking back on her heels. Eyebrows raised, she started to continue the interrogation…

"Get inside." Mary whispered, dragging her by the arm, and taking her inside the well-appointed condo.

Once inside, Mary let go and said, "Give me ten minutes, I'll shower and be back and we'll go meet your friends. But I don't want to talk about my whereabouts. "She turned around. "This is serious Sybil." She put her hand to her forehead and rubbed. "Please don't tell anyone I was out." She paused. "I'll…" wavering, "I'll tell you, sweetheart, "her arm on Sybil, "I will. I need to talk to someone. But not here and not now."

Sybil smiled and said, "then get your ass in gear. We're late!"

XX

Matthew, waking up finally around 10am, rubbed his eyes and looked around. "Shit," he silently berated himself for oversleeping. He looked to the other side of the cramped sofa bed. He frowned.

She was gone. "Damn, damn," he continued. Getting up he noticed a note on her side of the bed.  
_This is for the best. I will never forget our night in Oxford. Mary_

The cursing got worse. Then he sighed throwing himself down onto the bed again. Looking at the clock again though, he put the note out of his head. He was late for his meeting with the Master. A quick shower and new clothes later, he was out the door.

He arrived at the School of Law offices and walked up the steps two at a time. "Huh," he said satisfied. "Only 15 minutes late." He walked in the door.

The hallway led to a series of rooms full of offices of various individuals associated with the school. He walked down listening to the various conversations until he came to the room used for casual meetings and where people congregated to get coffee and to leave their lunches in the small frig in the corner.

He poked his head in to say hello before going down the hall to the Master's office.

"Matthew." His friend and associate Fellow, Jeff Knowles, slapped him on the back. "Didn't get to talk a lot last night." He winked. "Saw you chatting up a certain stunning brunette. Didn't know you had it in you. I'm impressed. "Whistling a catcall, "Lady Mary Crawley," he added with a leer, "Hope she's no relation."

"What." Said Matthew, stunned. "Who…" he trailed off, confused.

"Don't tell me you didn't know." Jeff lifted a paper from the table that had been left by one of the temp employees and handed it to Matthew. A full page photo, showed that stunning brunette with another, handsome tall man in couture designer fashion, stepping out of a limo at a charity event, the caption indicated, hosted by the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge.

Shaking his head Matthew pursed his lips as he read the chatty article on Mary's chosen designer, her shoes and accessories. He put it down before he finished the article**, **he thought of her note, on his pillow, "_This is for the best_" he muttered half under his breath. His eyes shifted back and forth as his thoughts raced.

Clapping Matthew on the back, Jeff said, "Hey mate. Don't look so worried. She's just engaged. Maybe you'll still have a chance." Giving him the eye, he continued "of course you'd need several cool million pounds, a flat in Paris, and a seat at a private banker's boardroom."

After a brief meeting with the Master discussing the details of his research trip to Ireland, Matthew left. He hardly remembered what he said but he got the permission he need to finish up some research work in Dublin at the Trinity College archives, before returning in about six weeks to take up his teaching duties again.

He left the office, avoiding the snack room, and walked out onto the pavement. Not really knowing which way to turn, he stood there. Finally shaking off the growing sense of, what…he thought…anger, frustration… petulance at being played for a sap.

He shook his head. What had been his expectations? He admitted that beyond getting Mary back to his rooms and hoping that what happened would happen he did not know. Simply that they would have more time to get to know one another. He never thought to ask about her life, her expectations. "Of course," he thought bitterly with just a touch of snarky sarcasm, "I didn't know I was supposed to ask…hey about that rich fiancé of yours, think he'd mind if we f…." He stopped himself. "Alright Crawley don't go there…"

Sighing, he texted his sister to blow off lunch. He was not in the mood to deal with her right now. Better to get his gear together and get to Ireland as soon as possible. He had met with the department secretary to finalize his airline schedule and print out his boarding pass. He had them in his pocket.

So by the late afternoon he was on the plane and within a couple of hours landing in Dublin.

Within a few weeks deep in the archives in Dublin he was finding out he was going to have to take yet another research excursion to finish this research into Anglo-Irish legal relations during the interwar years. He found a reference to a cache of documents, letters, and newspaper articles written by the 1920s Irish journalist of note Thomas Branson, and found out that his papers were available for access at a place called Downton Abbey, owned by the Earl of Grantham.

Matthew called the Oxford School of Law secretary and asked her to book him some rooms at a bed and breakfast in a nearby town of Ripon and he readied himself to make the journey to York to see these documents for himself. With luck, he thought, he could get out of there in a couple of days with the information he needed.

XX

Matthew arrived at the Abbey and was met by Anna Bates, the Director of Castle Relations. She led him through the saloon to the private area of the house.

Anna found his name at first confusing. "Mr." she said, "…Mr. Crawley. Are you a relation?"

"Relation to whom?" He said, slightly alarmed. "Oh God," he thought, "please no." He licked his lips and looked around. Shrugging his shoulders he murmured half to himself, "too coincidental." Scoffing at the idea he continued to listen to Anna.

"Well, this is Downton Abbey, the home of Robert Crawley, the Earl of Grantham." Anna said, with a touch of pride. "I run the tours and organize private gatherings like weddings and such. If you're a relation…" She paused still confused by the name, "are you here for some function? The charity auction perhaps?"

Anna related this information as she led Matthew through the saloon with its rich décor and leather wall coverings into the small library.

"No." He said. "The department secretary at Oxford organized for me to examine documents relating to my book research."

"Wait here," Anna said, and disappeared around a corner. Matthew, a little astonished at the size of the manor home and curious as to the titles of the books along his eye line in the library, turned to glimpse at the volumes. He was engrossed in eyeballing a collection of first edition Thomas Hardy when he was felt the presence of another person in the room.

Matthew turned around, mouth agape and dizzy at the coincidence, he stared into the equally astonished eyes of Lady Mary Crawley.


	5. Chapter 5

_This chapter is transitional as Matthew will now be staying at Downton to do his research. It is a short chapter but I wanted to get it out over the week end. Many thanks on the kind reviews. This is really new to me and I appreciate all the encouragement._

Last chapter reminder:  
_Matthew turned around, mouth agape and dizzy at the coincidence, he stared into the equally astonished eyes of Lady Mary Crawley. _

XX

The moment, palpable as each sought simply to breathe, was broken when Anna returned from around the corner with Robert Crawley.

"I needed to find someone from the family to consent to allow you into the archive room." Anna turned to Matthew, "I see you already found one." She smiled pleasantly.

Struggling to maintain a disinterested demeanor Matthew swallowed hard and turned to Anna. "Yes" he said, barely above a whisper. "I found someone."

He had deliberately avoided thoughts of Mary and their time in Oxford with its unanticipated delights and rather shocking revelations. He has spent three weeks in Dublin and thought he had successfully put her out of his mind. But being this close, feeling her next to him, it was all he could do not to put his hand out to take hers.

Robert clapped his hands together and rubbed them. "Well nice to meet you young man. Of course you can use the archives. But first you must join us for tea. I would like to know more about your side of the family. Come on." He moved his arm towards a larger room off the small library.

He led Matthew away but not before an unspoken agreement was reached with Mary with just a look. 'Its ok' he communicated through his eyes and a barely discernible nod of his head. 'I won't let on we know each other. '

She imperceptibly nodded. Her shoulders relaxed slightly. What was he doing here? A few minutes earlier, turning the corner and seeing Matthew, leaning over and squinting at book titles, stunned her beyond anything she had ever experienced. At first disbelieving that it was possible this was a coincidence, she thought he had tracked her down which startled and disturbed her. She really didn't know anything about him. How foolish she had been. What if he came to do her some harm? Blackmail? Or worse? She shook her head. No. Not Matthew.

She clenched her hands and crossed her arms. "So what was he doing here?" she thought as the two men walked into the larger portion of the library.

"The house is in bit of an uproar at the moment." Robert said. "We're hunkering down in here while they set up the Music Room for the auction tomorrow night." Walking towards the women on the settee, he said, "Ah here's my wife Cora."

Matthew was introduced to Cora and a younger woman, very pretty brunette named Sybil sitting on a long sofa near a roaring fireplace.

Robert continued as he sat down beside his wife, "We're not usually here as a family but all hands to help out Sybil's York Children Hospital volunteer program." He said, giving his younger daughter a nod and a wink.

"Well I won't take up too much of your time." Matthew said, desperately wanting to explain his sudden appearance to Mary. "I only came to do some research for a book I'm writing on Anglo-Irish relations. I need to look at the papers of one Thomas Branson..." He was interrupted in the middle of his sentence.

Robert guffawed and said, "Ah the family's 'tame revolutionary,' eh? Well Well." Nodding approvingly he said, "Well take all the time you need. Do you need to stay the night?"

Cora looked put out and gave her husband a glare.

But ever the polite hostess, Cora turned and looked at Matthew. She cleared her throat and said, "It should not be too much of an inconvenience. It's just that we're also expecting my eldest daughter's fiancé …." She stopped as he heard Matthew's involuntary intake of breath.

Matthew coughed to cover up his startled expression. "I've come at a bad time. I'll come back when it's more suitable."

"Nonsense" Robert said wanting to have more men to even the numbers. "Ronan is a fine fellow. He's an Oxbridge graduate as well. You'll get along famously." Turning to Matthew, he smiled, "In any event, we can't let you leave before we find out if you might be family."

Mary and Matthew both looked horror-struck at this potential revelation.

Robert observed, "Well, you never know." And without noticing the look that went between his daughter and his guest, moved over to peruse some books on a desk.

These last remarks made Matthew sick to his stomach. Recovering, and maintaining a straight face, he attempted as disinterested a look as he could manage. Only a twitch of his lower lip betrayed him.

"Really Dad," Mary said her voice icy, "what nonsense. This gentleman," Mary paused and waved her arm in Matthew's direction but dared not look at him, "doesn't care about our family affairs."

She raised her hand to her forehead and said acerbically, "Nor should we trust anyone who just walks in the door." She sat down, cradling her arms against her shoulders, shocked at the ease with which that performance came.

Stunned at that cutting remark, Matthew turned on his heels to Mary. He looked at her. "On the contrary" his eyes piercing hers, challenging her, "One can hardly walk past a news agent without seeing something about your upcoming nuptials." He squeezed his lips together at the word. "And be assured that I won't tell anyone if you have set the date?" Cocking his head at an angle, he matched her perfectly dispassionate demeanor. Except that his eyes betrayed the pain at the very idea of that event. "God," he thought, "What was she doing to him?"

Mary started to say quickly "that's still to be..." She was interrupted by her father.

"Mary finally took pity on her mother's nerves and settled on an official engagement announcement. The wedding date will be announced at a celebratory party here in two weeks. All the county families will be present. Haven't had such gatherings in a long time." Robert fairly huffed with pride.

Matthew, rattling his tea cup as heard the news, sat down beside Sybil across from Mary who had taken a seat by her mother.

Mary did not look up. After that exchange with Matthew she was still too on edge. She had to maintain her calm exterior even if his very physical presence was making her stomach do flip flops.

Matthew managed to say calmly, "I'm so sorry…I didn't mean to come at an awkward time." Returning quickly to the point of his visit, he continued, "I really assumed I'd be dealing with a member of staff."

The family looked at each other. Other than Anna and Robert, none of them had actually been in the basement in years.

"You'd be the first person researching down in that old musty room in what must be decades. I'm afraid you'll find it in a jumble." Cora finally said.

Robert waved his hand in an act of dismissal. "Plenty of time for all that and I am interested to talk about your research. All this auction and wedding talk is women's stuff anyway." Robert huffed. "In any event, tell us a bit about yourself. We must look you up in Debretts…"

"Ah don't bother," Matthew jumped in hurriedly, not wanting to give any impression to this family...especially Mary… that he was a relation.

"We're 'colonial commoners' I 'm afraid," he said, using a favorite quote from a radio film review program.

Robert just looked confused.

Matthew tried again… "My family emigrated to Canada in the early 19th century. They settled in Toronto, or York as it was called then, to find a better life. It was only after World War II that my grandfather returned to England. He was a kind of a reverse war bride." He chuckled and explained the family in-joke. "He stayed to help his wife's father in his business. My own father was a doctor but," hesitating again. "…he died when I was quite young. "

Sybil, fascinated and intrigued by the interplay between the newcomer and her sister, fished for more information by asking, "But you're a history teacher, Right? Why didn't you go into medicine?" She'd never seen Mary so put out and wanted to know more about this man who made her sister so ill at ease.

"Oh" Matthew said, smiling finally, "…no aptitude I'm afraid. I trained as a solicitor but I'm now a research don in the history of law." He would have continued but Mary coughed signaling that Sybil knew of Mary's job in Oxford.

Realizing his mistake he changed the subject, "I" … "I bunked with some docs from Doctors Without Borders when I was in Afghanistan…."

That did it. Sybil, distracted at that news, interrupted him. "You were in Afghanistan. When? Why?" And she and Matthew began a conversation, Mary relaxed.

But as soon as she sunk back into her chair, watching Matthew in his tête-à-tête with Sybil, she felt what she refused to believe was an actual pang of acute jealousy. Realizing she had no right to this emotion, and not wanting it to get the better of her, she instead berated herself for falling for this guy's charms. She thought, "God alive look at him. Is he hitting on my little sister…?"

Robert interrupted the conversation, "Yes Sybil. We all know your intention of becoming the next Florence Nightingale." Sybil winced. She was training as a GP.

Turning to Matthew, deliberately changing back the subject, Robert said, "You must stay at the house. Finish your research in no time that way." He looked to Cora.

"Well yes, "Cora finally said. "Molly will clean out a room in the old bachelor quarters. We need to get those ready anyway for Ronan." She turned and smiled at Mary.

Mary started to protest but acquiesced realizing she had no valid reason not to want Matthew to stay in the house.

Matthew, surprised at this offer and not wanting to be anywhere near Downton after the said fiancé arrived, protested that he didn't want to put the family out.

Robert hand waved that away. Matthew, needing to save some money on this research trip, nodded his head. "I just need to go back to Ripon and get my things I stowed at the B and B."

He got up to leave.

Mary said suddenly, I'll walk you to the door. ..You," she stopped, realizing this was odd that she was showing out a guest, said lamely but with no other choice for she had to put him off staying, said "You might get lost."

They walked back through the saloon to the entrance hall and out the front door.

"God that was awful." Matthew said when they neared his car. "But if I stay we can find some time to talk." Matthew said as soon as they were alone. "I won't be more than an hour …"

Mary interrupted, wanting to make herself clear on their new status, especially at Downton.

"Maybe it's better if you stay in Ripon." Her voice cool, distant.

He looked sideways at her and said, "You know I didn't know you lived here. I didn't intend to push in to your family affairs."

Saying this without a filter, he scowled, put his hands to head. He was damned if he was going to admit that he wanted to take her into his car and drive to a hotel so they could be alone. That he, as he admitted to himself despite not knowing what kind of man that made him, could care less she had a fiancé. To admit that was falling in love with her.

So he tried again, this time imitating her smooth objective demeanor.

"Fine. Let me reassure you, if I stay here I'll get the research done and be out of your way in a matter of days."

"If you must." She said brusquely, wanting to give the impression of physical distance; conscious that someone might have followed them outside. Mary knew she could not fail now in her determination to keep him, and her emotions, at arm's length.

Continuing she said almost inaudibly, "I think its best that no one here knows that we are already…" and her she stumbled over her words finally settling on "…already acquainted."

Matthew, stunned at her deliberately using such a misleading word to describe their passionate night in Oxford, snorted in derision. He could contain his anger no longer. "Changing history are we? To suit your surroundings?" And he put his arms out to take in the landscape of the manor estate. "Worried that a poor middle class boy might take advantage?"

She said bitterly, "You know that's not true. You don't understand…"

He said, "well try me?"

Taking a deep breath, she continued evenly, "We hardly know each other really"… her voice betraying her muddled emotional state, but forcing herself to continue, " given the circumstances I prefer to keep any knowledge of our previous…err , connection," again hesitating, " … just between us."

She said this while smoothing her skirt and fussing with her bracelet.

"Of Couse Lady Mary," he said mockingly, and moving up closer to her face, he said quietly, with just a touch of ironic bitterness, "We both know how to keep secrets. And anyway, you can be reassured, I don't kiss and tell."

He got into his car and slammed the door, belying his emotions, grimaced in annoyance and turned the ignition on and left.


	6. Chapter 6

_Here is the next installment: picking up when Matthew returns to Downton after his argument with Mary…  
Thanks to everyone reading this story. _

Matthew arrived back at Downton Abbey later that afternoon, deciding to eat before returning. Entering through the open door, Anna having taken off for the day, no one greeted him. He was not sure of where to go and walked quietly through the entrance hall and into the saloon where he heard sounds of voices coming from one of the rooms off to the right.

His angle allowed him to see the family in the mirror from behind the door without actually going inside the room. The deep baritone voice, Matthew assumed, belonged to Ronan Napier. He grunted silently to himself as he observed the tall, slim built man with short cropped reddish blonde curly hair and an angular face. Mary had her arm crooked in Ronan's standing by the fireplace.

Matthew realized he had no right to be jealous.

During his stay in Dublin, no matter how hard he concentrated on his work, thoughts inevitably turned to Mary. He started to phone her several times at her work. But he never did. And at his worst moments he angrily reminded himself that Mary never told him she was engaged and she obviously viewed their encounter as a mistake. But when he looked upon the man, he could not help but to view him as rival.

At this moment, however, Ronan and Robert were in some kind of heated debate on estate management with Robert advocating for a scheme that Ronan clearly felt was unnecessary at this time. "Well it's all right for you," Matthew overheard Robert say with some fear in his voice "you don't have the banks breathing down your neck."

Matthew wasn't sure he would be welcome into such a private family dialogue.

So he stood in the hallway, hesitating whether to bring his gear in from the boot of his car and leave it in the entranceway or simply leave and go back to the B&B and wait until morning.

Sybil came from around corner. "There you are. We've been waiting for you." And she grabbed his hand and dragged him into the room.

"Matthew's here." Sybil called out to her sister. "Let's go!" Mary let go of Ronan's arm. Ronan, however, simply moved closer.

Matthew, confused and disconcerted with seeing Ronan's arms now draped around Mary's shoulder, said "What? What are we doing?"

"I'm done prepping for the auction. And I want to have some fun before tomorrow afternoon. We've been waiting for you to get back so we can try out the new club in Ripon. I'll ride with you."

She nodded to Matthew who, still confused, simply nodded his head.

Robert and Ronan ended their discussion and the younger people moved towards the entrance hall.

Ronan, agreeing to go to the club for a few minutes, said to Mary on the way out the door, "Is that Sybil's new boyfriend? He seems rather quiet in comparison to the others."

Mary, startled that Ronan assumed the two were a couple, but unsure how to respond without giving anything away, said nebulously "They get on well" while adding to herself " …too well."

Outside on the gravel drive Sybil opened the passenger seat door. Matthew, driving a rather cramped Toyota Yaris, apologized for the state of his car.

"You've not seen mine! Ha." Sybil responded, shoving stuff into the back seat. "We've got to talk anyway."

They had got on well that afternoon. Matthew's information on his stint as a legal aid representative in Afghanistan redoubled Sybil's curiosity to get more involved with such efforts. His rooming with Doctors Without Borders volunteers particularly piqued her interest.

Once in the car, Matthew started the engine and looked over to Sybil.

"Are they following us," he asked glancing behind him, completely distracted by thinking of Mary in Ronan's classic Austin-Healey roadster.

"We need to join forces on getting rid of that guy," Sybil said, nodding in response to Matthew's concentrated glare on the car in the rear view mirror.

"He's just no good for Mary. All calculation. No spontaneity, you know." She looked directly at Matthew when she said this.

"Hmm" he said, as he tried to follow her direction out of the estate and onto the town roads.

He looked warily over to the younger woman.

Sybil just smiled slyly, and raising one eye brow said as if the poor boy just didn't get it. "Please Matthew. I know."

"Know what?" He said, hesitating over his words; looking, he feared, as if guilt was written all over his face.

Repeating himself he said, "What do you know?" Matthew's voice cracked on the last question and raised a notch in incredulity.

Rolling her eyes Sybil said, "You and Mary, of course."

Matthew almost pulled over into the next lane when he whipped his head to look at Sybil.

"Three weeks ago Mary and I were to go see a wedding planner. I waited outside her condo. She was late. She finally arrived in a cab. She looked…um…shall we say…a little less put together than she normally would appear outside the house." Sybil cast him a look and cocked her head knowingly.

"I eventually got out of her that she met a guy" another deliberately studied pause, "the night before."

Matthew narrowed his eyes and scrunched his face. Sybil looked smug.

"She would not reveal the guy's name. But…" Sybil turned towards Matthew in the driver's seat…clearly enjoying the fact she knew she was right.

"You." She said with a confident pursing of her lips. "You are the mysterious one night stand guy from Oxford."

At first Matthew spluttered a vague denial under his breath.

Sybil gave him a withering look. "..uh the dancing around you and Mary were doing this afternoon. It's the only explanation. You clearly knew each other."

"But…" Matthew continued then just sighed.

"Don't worry. Mom and Dad never even suspected." She looked over at him and said, "..are you going to continue to deny it?"

Matthew waved his hands up in the air briefly and returned them to the steering wheel.

He smiled and chuckling slightly said, "Your skills are lost on the medical profession; you need to go into counter-intelligence with MI5."

She just nodded. "So…now that it's out of the way…"

"Wait, you must tell Mary." He said, pulling into the parking lot of the Cross Keys Club in Ripon.

Sybil smacked her lips. "Not right away. I've got a plan to force it out of her."

XX

"Bit loud" Matthew said once they were all seated with drinks at a table across from the dance floor.

He was not intending to complain. But he did prefer the jazz and blues clubs that dotted the campus around Oxford to the techno Euro pop throbbing sound emanating from the digital speakers.

Mary, worried that a knowing smile from her might look suspicious, simply glanced around as people continued to enter the club. The whole day had been like something out of a surreal dream and she was getting a headache. And now her darling baby sister had dragged her into a situation that once again demanded she play act disinterestedness, an act that was cracking at the seams.

Every time she looked at Matthew she remembered something more about their evening, their night together. He brushed his hands through his hair in frustration at the music. She smiled to herself. He scrunched his face and furrowed his brows and she laughed as thoughts of him doing that as he straightened his untidy rooms in Oxford. She hated herself for this indecisiveness. She knew it was inevitable, now that he was back in her life, that she could not pretend their night did not happen. She knew that some things in her life were changed forever. She was just not sure she was ready to accept the consequences.

Meanwhile, in an effort to appear sociable, the two men started discussing backgrounds and comparing education. Mary relaxed a bit until it became clear that the two traded awards and degrees as if in a game of academic one-upsmanship. Ronan declared his academic stint reading Classics at Cambridge, or the "the groves of academe," to be ultimately satisfying with achieving a First. But that later, after earning his Management degree at the London School of Economics and working in the City as private investment banker, he knew that with maturity comes real world responsibilities.

With a world wearied expression Matthew knew to be an affectation as the man was clearly only a few years older than himself, Ronan declared he had left behind such a "youthful indulgence" and made his contribution to England's future.

"Not at Barclay's I hope" Matthew said, knowing it was inappropriate to mention the bank that started the economic meltdown that affected the entire world, but he could not help it. The man's air of noblesse oblige grated on Matthew's nerves. His own, scholarship earned, Oxford degree in History had been followed by reading for a solicitor's license only to be changed again as he pursued graduate work in the history of law in an attempt to combine his two interests. He thought, perhaps his jealously making him thin-skinned, that Ronan was belittling his own efforts to 'contribute' which made him only more sarcastic and mocking.

A brewing argument ensued which allowed Mary, who kept noticing how Sybil edged herself closer to Matthew's seat and was rather uncomfortably moving her hands against his arm, to take Sybil by the hand and announce "we'll be right back."

She had enough for the moment. Matthew's attempts to equal Ronan struck Mary as an attempt show his worthiness, like some male in a mating ritual with a rival. She neither wanted it nor was impressed by either man at the moment.

And as for Sybil….

She dragged Sybil to the lavatory where she demanded her sister come clean. "What is up with you and Matthew?" She knew Matthew was not returning her sister's flirtatious behaviors, so why was Sybil so intent on this one sided effort?

"What's going on?" Mary demanded.

Sybil smiled and explained that she was simply trying to draw Mary out on her true emotions regarding Matthew as she had already had hers confirmed with Matthew in the car. "You know he's crazy about you?"

"He's so incapable of keeping a secret" Sybil said, "it's written all over his face."

"You're impossible" Mary said, more than a bit relieved she was correct in her assessment.

"But you love me madly." Her sister responded and kissed her on the cheek.

They returned to the table where Matthew was just getting in full swing in his animated debate.

Mary, uncomfortably aware that she knew both men too well and believing this was not going to end well, started to interfere. But Matthew rather annoyingly she thought, put his hand up to stop her talking.

He said with a restrained voice to Ronan "your take no prisoners attitude led to unnecessary suffering for folks wanting nothing more than to keep a roof over their family's head."

"They agreed to take the risk when they entered the investment." Ronan responded refusing to be drawn out by Matthew, still confused as to who exactly he was to the family.

"But not that the bankers fix the interest rates to suit themselves. " Mathew spit out.

The two men eyed each other across the table. "Not my fault." Ronan said evenly. "I make no apologies for reaping rewards off my hard work…hard," and with deliberate emphasis, "… honest work."

At that he took Mary's hand and said, "such as the reward of leasing a private plane and booking," he held his phone up, "a flight to Paris."

Ronan, finished his drink and stood up and taking her arm, said in an attempt to end the conversation, "Matthew here is right about one thing, the noise level is deafening. One can hardly talk. Let's get out of here."

Rona held out his hand to Matthew but spoke in that tone that continually irritated Matthew when at university. One that dismissed people he thought not his equal, while trying to keep up the appearance of equanimity. "Well, it's been nice to meet you," he turned away as an act of dismissal and said, "but we're off."

Mary said, with a certain amount of annoyance at not being privy to Ronan's plan, "oh but my mother thought you'd be staying at …"

"Oh we'll be back by tomorrow morning. We'll breakfast with your parents." Ronan said, making the decision for both of them in way that Mary felt unable to disagree without giving too much away.

Matthew's eyes darted back and forth thinking of this change of events. At least, he thought, he would not have to endure the agony of thinking of her sharing a bed with Ronan down the hall from his own guest room.

Ronan continued. "Downton has its charms, for sure, but darling, you know… your father's bedroom rule," Ronan trailed off. Robert had asked Mary to keep their bedrooms separate until the wedding.

Matthew pursed his lips and sniggered at this comment but put his hands up and attempted to look appropriately apologetic but Mary glared at him anyway.

Ronan continued, without looking in Matthew's direction, "And this way we can have a late dinner on the balcony." Doing his best to sound persuasive, he said, "it will be very romantic." He concluded his argument by waving his hands around "unless you want to stay here…" and pointed out the drunken crowd that just walked in.

And at that Matthew could no longer contain himself. He leaned back in his chair and looked up from his drink and spoke, "Yes Mary, why don't you two get out of here. Just go. It will be so romantic," he mimicked Ronan's voice but turned his head to face only Mary.

"However," and he put the legs of his chair down, "I'm always of the opinion that one can find love in the untidiest of places if the moment is right." And at that he nodded his head, took his last swig of ale, and got up to get a refill.

Mary's short intake of breath was lost as Ronan's phone rang. He tried to answer it but, the room being too noisy, signaled to Mary that he needed to move outside.

This allowed Mary the few minutes she needed to speak to Matthew alone.

Matthew, his head turned towards the barman, felt Mary's warmth as she came up behind him.

"What are you up to?" She hissed. "Dismissing me without even looking at me, getting into pointless debates with Ronan, are you trying to make a scene?"

He turned around and she immediately moderated her expression. Without having to have him say anything she understood. His lips quavered and his unfocused eyes told her he had been putting up a façade all evening. What he looked now, vulnerable and real, was about to break her.

Matthew began to speak, urgent and slightly panicked, in that low register his voice took on when he was most passionate. "Oh, God, Mary. What are we going to do?"

Mary, ashen faced, responded quickly "Matthew, the fault is mine. I ….I should have told you." She put her head closer to his.

"No" he said softly, moving a strand of hair away from her cheek, and attempted to pull himself back together. "No. We didn't ask questions. What we had was ours."

She sighed. "I have to go…"

He responded."I know. Go." He turned his head towards her more closely and puts his lips to her cheek and brushes them against their softness. She doesn't pull away.

Matthew took that as a good sign.

He whispered, with more boldness than he actually felt," ...But I'll be thinking only of you tonight" in her ear, sending shivers down Mary's body. She exhaled and swallowed hard, blinking unable to take her eyes off his as he backed away from her.

Ronan, visible to Matthew in the mirror behind the bar, was coming back in the door. He pushed himself quickly away from Mary, and started to take a pull on his pint.

Mary moved away as well and fixing her hair just to do something, turned around, and said to Matthew, as she moved towards Ronan, "we'll talk tomorrow night...I'll explain."

...

_The length of this chapter got away from me and so I am stopping it here…not meaning to be too ambiguous however… I am intending to put out the next chapter over the week end which will continue with Mary and Matthew's talk. _


	7. Chapter 7

_Picking up where we left off…_

Mary and Ronan left by the front door. Matthew downed his second pint and was morosely considering a third and possibly one for the road. He wanted to be completely insensible to his thoughts during the night. Thoughts he knew, despite telling Mary to the contrary, would be of her and Ronan, in bed, his arms caressing, taking her….

He held up a finger and said to the barman, "Another pint…"

"No way," he heard Sybil say from behind him. Sybil stood next to him. She said as she took in his fuzzy, blinking eyes and sad expression, "Mary's gone. Getting wasted is not going to change that. And besides, I'm not carrying you out to the car."

"You're as bad as my own sister."

"Let's go." Sybil tugged his arm and he let her push him out the door. "Oh and… I'm driving. Give me the keys."

XX

The next morning Matthew woke up, still a little worse for wear. Although he wanted to go back to bed, decided a run would do him good. He had picked up running as a means to pass the time while in the enclosed military compound. But he also discovered it cleared his head and allowed him to focus on the task at hand. And he was excited about getting down to work after wasting much of yesterday.

He threw water on his face and dressed in the running gear he used while in Afghanistan, including sweats, trainers and an Army issue t-shirt he had picked up in the barracks. Taking a hoodie in case of morning chill he walked down the stairs and decided to go out the front door. Downton was huge and he tried not to feel intimidated by the richly appointed décor.

Matthew ran around the gravel drive way and along the main entrance. The weather was still cool, but turning to early spring, he decided the t-shirt would be enough. After he was done making several laps, he realized he was famished, having had nothing to eat since yesterday afternoon.

Coming back in through the front door, he greeted Anna and asked the location of the kitchen, or he said with a puzzled expression, "wherever the breakfast is served." He asked looking around and realizing he really did not know his position in this house.

She smiled and said, "Hello, Dr. Crawley. I heard you were staying. Robert told me to show you to the dining room. Follow me."

"Thanks, and Matthew is fine. I know I'm going to need your help today finding my way around the archives."

Anna guided him into state dining room with a colossal van Dyck portrait of Charles II on the wall, dished items along a side board, and the Earl of Grantham sitting at the head of the long table. Matthew suddenly realized, in the intimidating room with ancestor portraits on the wall that dated back to the Civil War whose countenances seemed to judge his questionable attire, that he did not belong here. He hesitated in the doorway.

Sitting next to Robert at the long dining table, Mary looked up at Anna, and seeing Matthew hovering, she gasped and almost choked on her slice of toast.

"Damn" she muttered under her breath. Seeing his shirt clinging to his body and his hair wet from the run with locks tumbling down over his forehead and looking adorably open mouthed at the richly decorated state dining room, was not something she was expecting that morning.

She had been relieved to be home after a rather uncomfortable night in Paris, where she had feigned tiredness and retired to bed after their meal. They arrived back in the early morning hours as Ronan promised, and Mary had managed a couple hours nap before seeing Ronan back to London. He would return later that afternoon with friends and colleagues who promised to bid well at the charity auction.

Robert, looking slightly concerned at her coughing, said "everything alright, Mary."

"Yes" she managed to say before putting her napkin on the table and getting up rather hurriedly. She wanted to leave before her body betrayed her desire to push Matthew into the nearest quiet room and tear off that shirt, or she though rather wickedly, meet him upstairs and join him in the shower.

"What is that man doing to me?" Mary thought. "I've never felt this way before." She walked towards the door leading back to the main hallway. Her father looked up expectedly at her sudden need to depart.

"I've…" she struggled before deciding on the obvious, "I'm going to see Sybil in the Music Room. She's going to need lots of help."

Matthew caught her on the way out the door looking at him under her eyes and he mouthed a quiet "hello. " And giving what Matthew could only surmise was the vaguest of smiles, she exited the room.

Left on his own, Matthew continued to hover. Robert turned and saw Matthew.

"Come in come in." He saw Matthew look askance at his sweats, "no matter…we don't stand on formality…at least while Cora is upstairs." And he chuckled to himself and put aside his newspaper.

Matthew got some coffee and bacon and eggs from the sideboard and sat down.

"So," Robert said, "Once you're done and dressed we're ready to get started?"

"Absolutely." He ate quickly and took the stairs back to the second floor bachelor quarters where he showered and put on some jeans and an Oxford hoodie.

Rejoining Robert in the saloon, they followed Anna to a heavy door and a back staircase. They moved down the old servants stairs to the series of maze like rooms adjoining and interconnecting each other. One of them had been converted into a kind of archive room although Matthew, looking around at the jumble of carts, boxes, half-filled shelves, and filing cabinets left open, realized this was going to be more work than he first realized.

"I'm sorry for the state of the room." Anna said seeing the look of bemused consternation on Matthew's face "but no one has really used it as long as I've been here."

"No worries. I like a challenge." He responded gamely.

"That's the spirit." Robert said clapping his hands together. "Well, I'll let you get at it. We'll check in on you later." They then departed with Anna giving Matthew her mobile number in case he needed help.

Matthew spent the next several hours getting organized in the room. Sorting through the papers left on the desk and going through the files, he tried to make sense of the previous archivist's rather singular cataloging procedure. He cleared a large desk and began to stack the relevant material (or what he hoped would be so once he got a better look) in alphabetical piles.

When he was satisfied that he at least had a sense of the system being used, he wandered up the stairs and into the Music Room where the items for auction were already in place near a podium for ready access by the auctioneer. Computers and Wi-Fi routers had been brought in alongside the wall facing the windows. Chairs had been set up in the middle of the room.

When he found no one in the room, he went to find Anna who informed him that Mary and Sybil had stepped out to find some last minute items. Nodding, he aimlessly took in the paintings, sculpture, antiques and other items that were going to be clearly out of his price range. Anna pointed near the back of the room where another table was set for a silent auction with pads of paper used as bid sheets.

"This table," Anna started to say "has smaller and…" Matthew interrupted, lifting an eyebrow and saying "more affordable items." They grinned together.

On a whim, Matthew wrote his name and an auction bid amount on the sheet next to a particular article. He ruefully concluded, putting the pencil down, that even if he won, it was probably a waste of money.

Matthew spent the rest of the afternoon taking notes on his laptop, making a list of items he would need to preserve the documents he found clustered on tables and in boxes, and continued to do his best to organize the clutter. He asked Anna before she left to help out Sybil and Mary at the auction, if he could have some food brought down to the archives. She gave his a plate of sandwiches and a mug of soup as well as some side items the cook had prepared before leaving for the day. She also said that the auction would have h'orderves and cocktails if he wished. He declined not wanting another encounter with Ronan, especially showing off with his friends, at the auction.

It had become so clear to Matthew that he did not quite fit into Mary's orderly world. A world that now that he was in it, her comments about a complicated life and her need to smooth out the edges and compromise was all too obvious. "Life's a bitch, Matthew." She had said. And although he could take issue with the idea that compared to many another's life, hers was pretty damned good, he understood what she meant. At the library where they met Mary appeared to him as she wanted to be seen… her success all around her, her accomplishments her own. But here…at Downton…she was part of a tradition, a history that both burdened and made her who she was.

He was beginning to doubt he could ever compete with her life at Downton. It surprised him to contemplate, however, that he most certainly wanted to try.

Late in the afternoon the auction was well under way. Matthew could hear muffled sounds and voices overhead and the banging of the gavel. Sybil poked her head in to the room to encourage him to come up for a while but again he declined.

"No thank you," he said to her with a touch of mockery in his voice.

Calling out, "Coward," Sybil smirked and returned upstairs.

Eventually the noises died out but just to be sure Matthew took the back servant staircase to the second floor and, after making several wrong turns, found his room. A fire had been set in the grate and the room was not as chilly as he expected. Matthew spread out some of his notes on the floor and plugged in the laptop.

He waited for Mary. She promised to visit and talk to him but he was not sure how late she would be, having to see Ronan to his car on his way back to London.

He barely heard the knock on the door, only looking up once he heard the click of the door knob and Mary's face appearing on the other side. "Can I come in?" She whispered.

"Of course. I … I was actually waiting up for you." He said as she walked in carrying a plate of left over desserts and a pot of coffee. She smiled. "A late night snack." And when she put the tray down, his breath caught in his throat and he had to tear his eyes from her nipples visible beneath her close fitting top in the chilly night air.

She noticed him and covered her robe more snuggly around her body. He looked contrite and started to apologize.  
"Matthew" she said, "I think we're beyond that stage. " She sat down next to him with the plate on the floor as he had made room. "But we do need to figure out what to do." They nestled closer together as she shivered in the draft.

They snuggled quietly for several minutes. Not talking. Just relaxed and accepting the moment for its own sake.

"Thank you," she finally said. When he looked confused she explained, "For not hating me. Leaving with just a note, without a real explanation." She shook her head. "I handled that very poorly."

"I could never hate you Mary," he replied. When she looked skeptical, he said, "much." He smiled slightly and continued "certainly not anymore." He brushed his hand against her arm. She moved slightly apart wanting some distance to clear her head.

"I need to explain some things. Things I did not tell you in Oxford when you asked about my family." She put her hand to her forehead and paused again to collect her thoughts.

"You have a title," he said, lightly trying to sound as if it did not bother him. "And a rather grand family home. I can understand why you thought that might put me off." Taking her hand, "I am not of your family's class…"

"No Matthew," she said earnestly, "Please don't think it was just that. I know I've tried to live my professional life without relying on my family's name…why I use my mother's maiden name while I'm at work." She said explaining at least one of the question's Matthew had.

He tried to lighten the mood by saying "ah yes. And I thought it was because you were afraid we'd be cousins. I can assure you, by the way, that is impossible."

"Count yourself lucky not to be this branch of the Crawley's in that case." Mary said with a touch of bitterness. "You won't be held accountable for our debts."

Taking a deep breath she continued, "My family is in a certain amount of financial difficulties. Not…" she emphasized, "Not in a manner that we'd be on the streets…in fact I've pointed out to Dad that they have their lease on the London house." She rubbed her forehead again. "And yes I know that is more than many people have…" remembering Matthew's rather righteous encounter with Ronan the previous evening.

"But this house…my family's home for over seven generations, is in danger….it has run up debts over the decades and with the recent financial crisis these debts have only worsened." At this Matthew felt guilty for throwing out those accusations in Mary's presence.

"Ronan is trying but not all the family's money can be accessed due to an ancestor's dying without a will. The money was put in a trust and the house has run on the interest ever since paying for maintenance and upkeep. And as you can probably tell, Dad's not got the best head for finance. And since his retirement he's become interested in restoration and had gotten involved in projects that have gone half done…" She trailed off realizing this might be too much information for Matthew to take in all at once.

"You can see why we're grateful to Ronan. "She paused; looking at Matthew's wounded expression.

"But is that enough for marriage?" He asked delicately. Not sure he wanted to know the answer.

She took a deep breath and said, "Ronan's family are old friends of my parents. We grew up together. His older brother Evelyn will inherit the title, but Ronan's the skilled City man."

She continued. "We lost touch but last year recently met up again at" …and here she hesitated "and I…I know this sounds horribly blue blooded … at a Centrepoint charity event hosted by the royal family."

Sighing she said, "We started dating, he asked me to marry him several months later and it seemed right to accept him. The announcement was in the paper." As if that was an explanation for why Matthew should have known. "But you were out of the country."

"Well even so it doesn't sound terribly romantic…" Here Matthew struggled over his words, "… more of a merger of convenience. " He finally managed to get out as he pursed his lips together and furrowed his brow.

At this Mary got up on her knees, looked directly at him. "I never expected to marry for love Matthew. That's the reality I learned to accept a long time ago." The bitter acknowledgement of those words was never more painful to her than at this moment.

"And that's what you want?" He asked softly.

"I… I don't know now" She admitted, continuing to look directly into his eyes. "And that makes me uncomfortable. I don't normally act in such a spontaneous fashion. This" she paused, "whatever this …is" touching his cheek, "is unexpected. You are unanticipated."

"A scratch on your digital recording?" he said, attempting humor. They chuckled at the memory of the argument in the gazebo. But she refused to get side tracked.

This has to be said, Mary thought.

"The question we're so delicately dancing around is whether I should break my engagement to be with you." She said directing her gaze straight at Matthew. "And to put it bluntly, we don't really know each other." Mary said, her practical side attempting to reassert itself. "Is our relationship," pausing for them to silently acknowledge consisted only of a heated one night's sexual encounter, "enough for me to upturn my life?"

Matthew was caught off guard. He knew that this had to be gotten out in the open before he could offer her any alternative to her current situation. Phrasing it so he was not asking her directly of her affection, he said, "Does Ronan love you?" Matthew knew from the previous evening that their relationship was sexual, but that, he tried to reason to himself, did not necessarily mean a passionate love.

"He might" she said evenly, "but it's the kind of love that can be easily replaced by another." She said this in a modulated tone. Mary had always known, and if she was truly honest with herself, was comforted by the acknowledgement that their relationship was never going to result in either of them being hurt. That was the main attraction. It was safe.

Mary sat down again next to Matthew. "There is something else." Taking a breath, she continued by explaining that a few years ago, her middle sister, Edith, got herself involved in a scandal with a married man that ended with a miscarriage and a tabloid nightmare. Now happily married and living in the States she was expected back for the wedding announcement party.

"You have no idea Matthew," Mary said. "The photos taken by paparazzi in the bushes. Our friends who turned on us to tell stories for money. It was horrible. To be the object of ridicule and scandal is just not in my nature. Sybil, as you can probably tell, doesn't care about what people think. But …" and her she paused, "but I do."

"I'm just not sure I can through all that again. Not for myself and not for the family. And remember, "She said, looking directly at him, "You'd be party to all of it."

"Are we asking is our relationship worth the scandal." Matthew said quietly. "Or is it easier for you to just go along?" Matthew asked cautiously, knowing he was stepping into deep waters. "Are you asking me to step away?" He voiced cracked on the sentence.

I just don't know." She admitted.

"Well," he said softly, trying his best not to sound like he was pressuring her, "you're here with me. I know this was unexpected…but now…I don't think I can just easily walk away. I'm not sure I can give you up…"

Oh Matthew. I don't know that I can either." And at that admission she turned to meet his face and their lips met in a lingering kiss. They trembled and parted. Not really knowing where to go from there.

"Can I stay with you tonight?" She asked, knowing that it was unfairly putting Matthew in an awkward position. He clearly wanted to take her to bed. And she had to admit that part of her wanted the same thing. But if their relationship was going to last they both knew it had to be more than just sexual attraction that kept them together. She just needed his warmth and his growing love tonight.

"Sure" he responded, in that low register again. "I would much much like that."

They were giving themselves one more night to be together before any decisions had to be made.

They moved to the bed and snuggled down in the warmth of the blankets and coverlets. Her back leaned into his chest and he wrapped his arms protectively around her shoulders and down over her breasts to her abdomen where, since she did not pull away, they stayed.

XXXX

_Ok…that was hard for me to write. I hope I got out all the ideas and information I needed to in that chapter. And I know it's not quite as 'hot' as some might have hoped. Just wait… I think it important they take their relationship one step at a time now…Mary has to make some tough decisions…and Matthew doesn't want to put added pressure on her…_

_It is coming however… and it will be worth the wait…lol _


	8. Chapter 8

_OK…here's the M rated chapter… I made it as sensual as I thought fit given their mutual desire for each other…. I hope you like it…_

Mary slipped out of Matthew's room in the early morning light and back to her own. He saw her to the door and kissed her good-bye. She said she had to return to Oxford as soon as she showered and dressed. He told her good luck with the library project and they finally exchanged mobile phone numbers.

Matthew did not ask if she had made her choice. He did not want to put any pressure on her. He sensed this decision had to be hers alone. But he felt he had made his position clear. He did not want to be without her. He slipped his hand from hers and whispered a safe travels as he closed the door behind her.

Over the course of the next two weeks, with the wedding announcement getting more and more imminent, various TV presenters arrived at Downton with cameras and web enabled equipment. They walked around the gardens and the interior rooms like they owned the place and Cora trailed in their midst trying to keep up with them while at the same time trying to maintain calm and order.

Matthew took refuge in the archives and got down to serious work. The papers of Thomas Branson were finally located in various filing cabinets and cases on the floor. He had also, to his great surprise and excitement, found a diary left by the man starting soon after his first wife died and continuing for many years after he returned to Ireland.

Matthew scrutinized all the boxes and containers in the room. It was slow work but he was good at methodical research. This project was taking a different turn than he first expected. The rather academic study of Anglo-Irish legal relations in the interwar years was being transformed into a biographical study of a man and his times.

Sybil, home on the weekends, walked down to the archive room to see Matthew. Usually not interested in his 'shuffling papers around,' she wandered around the room. Returning to the desk, she leaned over his shoulder and looked at the picture Matthew was examining of a handsome, light brown haired young man wearing a three piece tweed suit and a driving cap. He was leaning against a 20s roadster. "Oooh." Sybil cooed longingly. "He is a darling."

Matthew glanced up, amused. "That is Tom Branson." Handing the photo to her, he continued, "I think I actually have enough material her to start a biography on the man. He lived a fascinating life both inside the aristocracy and yet able to maintain objectivity and a sarcastic, jaundiced eye on their activities. His diaries are fascinating."

"Did he have a family?" She asked, picking up another picture of the same man with an adorable curly haired girl in his arms.

"Yes, but unfortunately his wife died in childbirth leaving him widowed while still quite young. He eventually remarried and returned to Ireland to begin his life as a newspaperman and eventual keen observer of the times he lived."

"Oh, how sad. He has such a kind face." Sybil responded. "I'm glad you're letting him live again through your work." Matthew smiled his mouth quirking at the corner. That was exactly what he was thinking.

XX

Mary and Matthew fell into the habit of texting each other several times a day at first just too keep in touch and later because they found the contact enjoyable.

Matthew liked to keep the texts at first light and diverting:

**Well found out today that the 2****nd**** Earl liked women, gambling, and drink in equal measure. **

Surprising himself, he found researching Mary's side of the Crawley family intriguing. It was to him, a middle class boy from the colonies, like looking at the other side of the coin. The Grantham family, their title having been won in battle during the Restoration period, served in many governmental capacities and as combat officers in the Boer War, the Great War and World War II.

Soon after his arrival Robert fell into the habit of coming down to the archive room and peer over Matthew's shoulder rumbling in approval as the younger man slipped documents into acid free folders or pointed out a new fact about an ancient relative. Although disconcerted with the knowledge that he has not been entirely (or indeed at all) truthful about his relationship with Mary, Matthew found himself accepting invitations to walk the estate and have a smoke after dinner, 'just like the old times' Robert said. In point of fact Matthew had given up smoking after college but he found just sitting and having a drink with Robert more relaxing than he would have imagined. While appearing on the surface to be, at least what Matthew assumed, a typical aristocrat who had no real purpose in the 21st century, Matthew realized that Robert's time in the army followed a tradition and a legacy he felt important the family should uphold. That sense of family and birthright, and the financial troubles the family faced today that Robert merely hinted at in Matthew presence, resonated with Matthew and he better understood Mary's predicament with regards to her love of her family home and its owners.

His texts got a bit flirtier…

**Robert showed me some pictures of you and your sisters as teens handing out ribbons at the village flower show…uh rocking the side pony tail LOL**

**Btw he also told me they called you 'lazy legs' cos u did not do 'unladylike' chores. That's being logged for future use!**

**Tell workmen to be careful with the Andromeda statue. I want it returned in all her glory to its proper niche! **

Mary retorted:

**Oh too late…there it goes…crashed to the ground. Smashed to smithereens! **

She was enjoying the texting with Matthew way too much. While embarrassed about her father showing Matthew her rather questionable fashion choices, Mary was jolted into a memory of the conversation with her mother than followed the 'lazy legs' label. After haughtily refusing, as only a teenager could, to participate in menial chores around the house Mary declared she wished she lived in an earlier time when servants could be called upon to do such tasks. Then dramatically taking a seat and refusing to budge.

Her mother gave her a withering look and sardonically observed "Oh yes…the so called good old days. When women could not vote or hold jobs outside of domestic or educational service and young girls like you would have been married off to the first eligible titled man sitting next to her at dinner."

And yet here she was, on her own accord, doing the very thing she had dramatically rolled her eyes at fifteen years earlier. While not exactly marrying the man next to her at a formal dinner, Mary had accepted a proposal based, not on love or passion, but social compatibility and financial security.

These were things the teenage Mary would have been aghast to acknowledge in her older self. Where had the free spirited, opinionated girl who told her family she would go to university and get an engineering degree. Her father, scoffing first at the notion, upon graduation proudly told everyone who walked by that his daughter had graduated at the top of her class.

Mary mulled over these thoughts as she supervised the work at the James Library. She had done exactly what she wanted and earned a managing partner position in a prestigious engineering and design firm. Ronan supported these efforts. They made a handsome couple, or so the OK and Hello mags told everyone, complementing each other's strengths and family ties.

But thoughts of Matthew invaded those affirmations with memories of intelligent yet teasing arguments, a seeming ability to read her thoughts and respond accordingly, and an uncanny ability to disarm her with a look or a flirtatious smile. And in leaving Ronan for Matthew, was she just putting herself out of the frying pan and into the inferno. She had to force herself to remember that they had barely known each other. He made her body weak from desire every time she saw him. But as enticing as that was, it was no real foundation for a life time commitment. Was she simply finding a sexual escape from a relationship she increasingly found stifling?

Leaving work after an exhausting day of dealing with contractors and escaping the clutches of the likes of Ken Wray, she wondered what did she want from her future? It was more than a choice between two boys as she and her sisters would talk about crushes in the all girls' school they attended. That night while resting with a glass of wine in her condo, Mary made a decision for her future. She got out her mobile and punched Ronan's contact number.

XX

Matthew, working at the desk and attempting to decipher the handwriting of Tom Branson, heard the sound of footfalls on the stairs. He turned towards the door and saw Mary come into the room. He pulled back from his chair startled at her appearance. He had not been expecting her to return to Downton until tomorrow night. And she had never been to the archive room. He was about to smile and express a greeting, but he stopped and just continued to regard her crossing the room.

Mary walked toward him with a seeming purpose. And she had an enigmatic smile he could not quite capture the meaning behind. She walked up to him and knelt in front of his chair. Matthew gazed at her as she touched his face and moved her fingers through his hair sweeping it back from his face. She felt his stubble as he had not shaved in a couple of days. While not exactly sure this was the right course of action, Mary felt herself unable to resist this encounter.

"This is unexpected" he murmured enjoying the sensation it was casting through his body, "but…"

"Unexpected," she interrupted , "but nice," barely whispering the words in his ear as she took her tongue and danced it in and out around his ear lobe.

"Oh yes" he managed to respond his voice raw and gravelly "...very, very nice."

Mary turned to his lips and they kiss with more hunger and fervency since their night in Oxford.

She let go of his mouth and sat up.

"...What" Matthew swallowed hard, "what is going on?" His words caught in his throat.

"...I've left him," Mary answered. Her words calm and composed.

Matthew locked eyes with Mary. He blinked rapidly. He could not believe what he heard. He swallowed again.

She smiles and nodded in acknowledgement. He cupped her face in his hands.

"Mary…" his voice unsure still, but she understood his need and his unspoken question. She stood up on her knees and he pulled her towards him and his restraint held no longer. Matthew, kissing her cheeks and lips, lifted her up onto his lap on the chair feeling her firm bottom as his hands moved under her skirt. He could not resist this urge any longer. That night she stayed with him in his room had been exquisite torture but he had been determined to prove his restraint that night. But not anymore...

His hands moved up her back and under her shirt and he unhooked the bra clasps and slipped his hands around the front to cup her breasts pinching slightly until they're erect. While enjoying Matthew's fingers squeezing and tightening around her firm breasts, Mary's hands undid his jeans and grasped his hard member until he started to groan and gasp. He'd imagined this happening again so many nights of late...

Suddenly Matthew stopped and slipped his hands out of her shirt and looks at her with a look of both incredible need and panicked fear.

"We…we...can't." He gasped.

"Why ever not?" Mary responded confused and a bit put out.

Matthew spitted out in a rushed whisper. "Your Dad, "he swallowed, "he," and looking around still in a hushed panicked voice, "he pops in all the time when I'm down here. And he never tells me he's coming..." He put his hands through his hair and down his face. "What if...what if…." And his voice, trailing off, glanced around to the door nervously.

"Matthew, "she said, giggling. "You look like a deer in the headlights. He's not here. … but I understand." His eyes wide and lips moving back and forth but with no sounds coming out Mary cannot help but continue laughing. Matthew looked at her, helpless with apprehension.

"Right." Mary stood up. And she looked around. "Oh yes" she finally said and taking his arm while he fumbled to rezip...which was difficult given his aroused state...he was led into an adjoining room which was connected to the archive by a small hallway. The old servants' dining room was a jumble of old furniture, kitchen and household items, toys, and nick nacks. And in the corner the gramophone that Mary remembered trying to get to play in her childhood.

Matthew said, "Oh. I never knew where that door led." She smiled knowingly and locked the door.

She went over to the gramophone, and turning an old record cover, looked at the title. She felt Matthew sidle up behind her.

"I just remembered this old thing." she said. "We used to come in here all the time when young. I'm afraid it doesn't work." She blew the dust off the title but was distracted when he entwined his arms from behind around her waist.

She said, "Mr. Crawley…do you realize you are going to make my life so complicated."

"Good." Matthew said low and cool, and started to kiss and nuzzle her neck. She turned and he removed her shirt. And guiding her over to the table, Mary perched on the edge leaning back with her arms at either side while Matthew continued to suck and nibble her taut breasts and rubbed his fingers against her back. His free hand moved under her skirt and pulled aside her bikini underwear. Mary moaned and slightly jerked in heightened anticipation. He slipped off her underwear and continued to touch. She pulled him in for a deep kiss feeling his scruff as it tickled her cheeks. She pushed her tongue past his teeth and deep into his mouth moving her lips around his tongue sucking and pulling on it. In and out of his mouth until Matthew weakened against her.

"Mary...I need… I need..." Matthew started. And she pulled him towards her and he pushed into her thrusting as she continued to pull his and squeeze his backside. He slowed his movement to prolong the pleasure of moving in and out of her. Her hips jerking and moving in unison. She felt his body and they looked at each other as he continued toward climax. "I can't …can't...hold it..." She kissed him and he pulled harder until he felt shattered and exhilarated. His moans and grunts of unadulterated pleasure shook his body. Mary leaned back against the table, smiling.

Matthew recovered and said apologetically. "I'm so sorry for not waiting until you…"

"...ssh ssh... It's alright." Mary said, taking her hand and moving his tousled hair back over his forehead.

"You are so beautiful." Matthew's lips quivered and his eyes moist. He picked her up his arms and carried her over to a sofa covered with protective linen. They stay alongside each other unable to let go.

"I love you." he said softly brushing his lips against her cheeks.

She leaned into him, feeling as if she stay in his arms forever, but shivered in the chill. "Maybe we could continue this upstairs."

"Yes...of course." Matthew responded and let her go. They dress quickly and Matthew led her to the back staircase that led to his room.

"Clever," Mary said, her eyebrow lifting in bemused approval.

Once there, Matthew, more slowly this time, undressed her and touched and caressed her. His strong hand and long sinuous fingers lightly tickling and moving down her body caressing her hips down to her thigh and in between her legs. She parted them and gasped pleasure as he moved his fingers all around into her warmth. He moved around slowly at first and then with added pressure on the sensitive spot and she tightened her thigh and then loosened them, opening herself to him. He sucked on her breast and pulled on her nipples which added more pressure until she whispered "oh …oh …that's it."

And he could feel her give in completely to the moment. She pulled on the coverlet while her other hand grasped his back. She pulled up and felt her climax as none she had ever felt before. She finished and laid back, her half naked body covered by the loose linen throw.

After an extended silence, where they absorbed the emotional and sexual connection they reignited, Mary touched his face and said, "We have to figure some things out." Matthew nodded in unspoken acknowledgement.

Each knew the next days would be difficult. Neither knew if they were prepared for the fallout Mary's decision would make on the family and the general public. Having to tell Robert would be uncomfortable and the possible media attention daunting in its glare of unwanted scrutiny. Matthew wanted to be fully supportive. But Mary told him, other than the meeting with Robert which Matthew insisted upon being a party to, she would handle the public side on her own. Matthew reluctantly agreed.

She folded herself into his arms, the sensations overwhelming, and they lay together with Matthew cradling to her giving warmth. He wanted her to feel safe in his arms.

For right now, in this moment, they were safe.

XX

_The next chapter or two will be more angsty as the public fallout will be surprisingly personal and the confrontations with Robert and Ronan fraught with accusation and blame. And Mary will make a decision that will ultimately surprise Matthew. …. But don't worry too much… this is a MM story after all!_


	9. Chapter 9

Mary and Matthew, now seated in a window recess that overlooked a sweeping vista of trees and landscaped gardens, remained quiet for a very long time. He leaned against the strong timbered oak paneled wall and she rested in the crook of his arm.

It was getting dark and Mary would soon return to her own room for the night.

"No need to raise suspicions just yet," she reasoned. Matthew just raised his eyebrows and gave a subdued chortle.

I'll tell mother first thing and get the preparations stopped before any more money or time is spent." Yet another problem Mary had dealt with over the past months. No matter how hard she tried to rein her mother in, the costs of the party had spiraled out of Mary's control. An unfortunate side effect was a budding tabloid scandal of '_Lady Bridezilla._'

Matthew said with a touch of tenseness in his voice. "Are you sure? She's not going to like it. And the news will get out more quickly than you might expect. Those news hounds are all over the estate." He said this while rubbing his fingers against her knuckles and his thumb along her inner palm.

"I know." Mary responded, not pulling her hand away and liking the tender sensation of his fingers against her skin. "But I must convince her I'm not making this decision lightly. Nor am I going through with it just for her own need to keep up appearances."

"Let me go with you…" He started to say.

But she cut him off abruptly with "No. I will do this on my own." Her voice edging towards sharper tones.

"I don't see why." He tried again. "If we're going to be together…" But he did not have a chance to finish that sentence either.

"Well I'm used to getting things done by myself." And this time did pull her hand away and sat with a straight back on the edge of the window seat. It had the tone of dismissal.

"Fine. If you must." Matthew rejoined not understanding how she can be so contrary.

She sighed. "I was serious earlier, Matthew, when I said you are complicating my life. And not just because of the break up. It's going to take me some time to get used to being open with someone."

Mary had learned both from family experience and in her professional life that it was easier to deal with people and situations in a contained and measured fashion. Emotions made one vulnerable, like plunging off a precipice into oblivion. She could never let herself feel such vulnerability. She needed the control to do her job in as professional a manner as possible. At work she was pleasant but dispassionate, unafraid to praise good effort but also able to dismiss shoddy or inexpert work with an icy glance and a cutting remark. It made her who she was.

Matthew got up from the window seat and put his hands out to Mary as she got up to leave.

"I can tell you are going to exasperate me as much as humanly possible." He said rubbing his hands up and down her back to give her some warmth in the night chill.

"Well there is still time to back out." She said, attempting to sound casual.

Matthew stopped in mid stroke on her back and looked at her. "You're not serious." His face took on a look of hurt astonishment. His eyelids lowered and his tongue moved against his lips.

"No," she said, not as assertively as Matthew would have liked. "No of course not. Forget I said it."

She put her hand out to push a loose lock of hair back over his head. "I could get very used to seeing that face every day."

They kissed and parted for the night.

Mary returned to her room but sleep eluded her. It was not because she regretted her action in leaving Ronan. Nor in going to the archive room and making love with Matthew. Those things she would never regret.

It was deeper than that.

Matthew put her off her game. He exposed her. Just with a look or a simple smile he managed to get under her skin. And in so doing she wanted to give him more of herself than anyone else in her life. Which was, she knew, ridiculous given how little time they had known each other. It just seemed to come so naturally to him.

How could she not think that this was wrong? That it was better to stop. But she did not. Indeed she had never felt more exhilarated. In the most intense and passionate moments of their love making, she could feel her release and it scared her that Matthew touched such a vulnerable spot in her emotional make up. This had never happened before. But she knew at the most deep part of her soul she could not give it up. She realized that in learning to love Matthew, both sexually and emotionally, it surprisingly made her stronger.

Mary knew she had not returned his declaration of love the night before. She hesitated in making an affirmation that made her only half herself. And Matthew, sensing her need for silence, had not pressed for a response. And that in and of itself was enough for her to believe they indeed had a future together.

She curled up into the blankets and coverlets and fell asleep.

XX  
Early next morning Matthew decided to get working in the archive room, once again hiding out from the party planning going on upstairs and outside. The canopy tent, set up in the old Monks' Garden, would seat 200 comfortably as well as the buffet tables and bandstand. He walked by a window on his way to grab a cup of coffee and noticed all the hired caterers and arrangers setting up the tables and heard the musicians tuning and setting up their equipment. He winced as the electronic keyboardist and synthesizer tech attempted (and failed in Matthew's judgment) to mimic the sounds of drums, violins and guitars.

Once downstairs Matthew had difficulty concentrating on his work as he could still feel Mary's presence in the room and every time he sat down in the chair at the desk he remembered touching her and kissing her. He still could not believe the news that she had left Ronan. They now had a real chance to develop their relationship on a proper footing. He still did not know his place in her world, but he felt thrilled at the prospect that he would have the chance to earn back the love he knew he felt for her. Their give and take relationship promised many challenges. She excited him like no other woman.

Another part of his brain fretted over Mary having to confront her mother and all the potential fallout from family and friends. He also knew, unfair though it was, that the majority of that fallout Mary would have to shoulder herself given it was her social peers that would judge her decision making. He had acquiesced, however, to her handling the situation alone. He was beginning to realize just how strong her individual instinct was to her very nature.

The thought that he himself would also be open to public scrutiny and ridicule had not yet rattled him. He was more concerned about the confession to Robert. How, he thought, do you justify a close bond to Mary without divulging that he had slept with the man's daughter only hours after meeting her? Matthew put his hands through his hair as he sat in the chair with photosynthetic and documents scattered on the table in front of him.

And Ronan…how was he going to take it? Part of him could not wait to reveal his relationship to that silver spooned entitled prat. But at that thought Matthew just groaned aloud. A face off fraught with masculine egos was just the thing to make Mary's eyes roll.

So to keep himself at least physically occupied Matthew rummaged through boxes of old photos rather unhelpfully dated by the previous curator, 'the 1920s.' He found several he could not identify. Knowing Robert ate breakfast after he walked his Labrador Isis, Matthew glanced at the clock and thought he give it a shot so he walked upstairs to the dining room. He thought to just pass by the door ready to check to see who sat at the table. As he approached the entrance he heard two unfamiliar voices coming from the dining room.

Hesitating, he stood just outside.

"Young man." An older lady said holding up a hand in a kind of wave to get his attention before he walked on by.

"Young man. I need those awful musicians outside to stop that cacophony of sounds they seem to think is music. Could you go and get them to cease immediately. I am trying to eat my breakfast in peace."

Matthew, in somewhat bemused agreement with her opinion, did not know what to say. He stood in confused silence when he was startled again by the older woman's commanding voice.

"Are you deaf?" She said tilting her head and lifting an eyebrow.

"Granny," said the younger woman, "you don't know that it is his place to do that."

"Well someone needs to. I cannot take this distraction any longer. And I'm certainly not going to do it. What else are these tour guides useful for?" She said dismissively.

Matthew, disconcerted that he had been taken for a castle employee, walked into the room. "No…. no…. I think you have…." But he was interrupted as the keyboardist and guitar sounds started up.

"Oh there they go again." She looked directly at Matthew.

He decided to put her right on his status in the house.

"I was coming to see if Robert had finished walking Isis…."

He never finished that sentence either.

The older lady looked askance at the younger woman sitting across the table. She then stared at Matthew with a most penetrating gaze.

"I do not know what presumption or liberties you allow yourself or that Mrs. Bates permits …but employees do not usually speak of Lord Grantham by his first name. I am going to assume this is your first day at Downton and make allowances but…"

"I am not.." Matthew tried again.

"Do not interrupt…I was opposed to allowing the house to be opened for tours but we must maintain some kind of custom." She said placing her napkin in her lap.

This time Matthew was determined to finish. "I am not a tour guide nor am I employed by the agency that runs Downton so please do not criticize Anna for any presumptuous behavior on behalf of her staff." He said as he walked over to the table.

Finally able to finish his introduction, he said, "I am a Junior Research Fellow at Lonsdale College, Oxford and Robert, err… Lord Grantham…has kindly allowed me access to the downstairs archive where I'm examining material for a book."

"Ah me…not some scandalous expose of skeletons in our family closet, I trust?"

Matthew put on his most charming smile as he tried to reassure her. "No… no ... I'm doing research on Tom Branson."

"Oh dear." She rolled her eyes. "Not the Red Irishman?" Not wanting to appear completely deflated Matthew kept silent.

They stood looking at each other. Neither sure how to proceed in this exchange.

"What is your name? I cannot continue to call you young man." She finally offered as a kind of diplomatic solution.

Preparing for another volley of wit, he served it up by saying, "Dr. Matthew Crawley." Using his D Phil history title he thought might earn some points with the sharp witted older woman. Or at least make him feel less a fool.

He stood back with his hand cupping his mouth as she looked up in surprise.

She said drolly,"How coincidental. We had one of those. His father was a medical man. He died in 1921."

She then turned to the other woman and said, "Why does everyone in this family keep naming the children the same? It's like we lived in Tudor times where every other girl was an Anne, a Catherine or an Elizabeth. "And she chuckled at her own riposte.

Matthew merely smiled. He had only found out himself that he had a namesake which rather disconcerted him as he had spent considerable time reassuring everyone he was no directly relation to this branch of the family.

"Well I am Matthew Joseph Crawley" He said in a growing confidence that he could win her over. "Not Matthew Reginald Crawley. At least we're not completely the same."

And he walked over to the table towards the older woman and held out his hand to shake hers.

"I'm the Dowager Countess of Grantham…..but you may call me Violet since Robert has allowed such license." And she finally smiled.

Matthew turned to the younger woman who had looked on the previous conversation with amusement. 'Hello, Edith Strallan."

Matthew said, "Ah yes the Americanized sister. Sybil has told me you live in Chicago." And she smiled. "I have developed somewhat of a Midwestern accent being in the States for these past five years."

Violet noticed the old photographs in Matthew's grasp. "What is that in your hand?"

"Oh this. Yes I wondered if Robert could identify the individuals in these photographs."

She stood up to put on her reading glasses as he handed over the picture of a man in his late 20s or early 30s in a country tweed suit and cap holding a baby of about eight months.

"Perhaps you know the relationship in this photo?" He said considering she had demonstrated knowledge of family history.

"Why" Violet said, quietly, trembling as she held the picture, why, that's Papa." And she peered closer to the baby…. "And me." She looked over at Matthew who returned her look with a pleased and contented grin on his face.

"I have never seen this photo. I do not own any pictures of my father holding my own self as a baby. My goodness I'm quite overcome." And she moved to sit back down. Matthew leaned over to help her back into the seat.

Thank you." She said and looked at Matthew who was pleased and a bit humbled.

"Are …are there any more?" She queried. Matthew responded readily, "I will most certainly have a look."

She pulled out the seat next to her, "Sit down and tell me how you found this."

Matthew was very gratified to have made an ally.

XX

Mary was having less luck with her own mother. Moving swiftly from table to table to check on names and spelling while on her phone with the caterers and motioning to the hired musicians to tone down the volume, Cora kept waving away Mary's hand on her arm.

"Mary, "Cora said, still moving around the tent, "I need you to call the party planner and tell her she must have the flowers arranged for our last meeting tomorrow. That way they can just send them over in the vans and we can see how they look on the tables before the guests arrive."

Mary felt like stamping her feet in a childish, but usually effective, attempt to get her attention.

Instead she stood her ground and took a deep breath.

"Mother." Mary said through gritted teeth, finally getting Cora's attention, but only for a fleeting moment. Cora turned in her direction and Mary gently took her arm, and tried in a calm but flinty voice, said "I must speak with you, now."

"Yes, of course." But then Cora's phone went off again and she went to answer it when Mary said in a voice louder than she meant, "I need you to stop the arrangements. There's been a change of plan." She said, trying to deliberately vague and aware that other people in the tent might have caught wind of her actions.

"What do you mean a change of plan? You want it held in the London house after all? Really Mary..." But before Cora could begin to find fault with Mary's seeming whim, her daughter interrupted.

"No that's not it at all. We need to stop the party." Mary said, practically hissing out the words which finally got her mother's full attention.

"Please let's go back inside the house."

Cora, looking stunned at the words coming out of her daughter's mouth, nodded in swift agreement and the two women exited the tent and returned to the house via the garden room.

When they entered the double doors and were in private, Cora could contain her curiosity no longer.

"What do you mean, 'a change of plans?'"

Mary, her arms by her sides and hands flat out, said calmly. "Mother you are not going to like this, but I've told Ronan that I no longer want to marry him."

Mary waited for her mother's response before going on. She had decided to give minimum explanation for the time being.

Dead silence awaited her.

After several moments, Cora finally managed, "What? It's all been arranged. You were just here together. I did not see any problems between you?" She sat down on the sofa and fidgeted with the phone in her hand that continued to buzz awaiting her response. Cora finally turned it off.

"I have decided against the marriage. I told him I would not accept his engagement ring and that the party would be canceled." Mary said all this in one gulp. She attempted to sound firm and in control.

"What has come over you? Nerves? You cannot just decide on a whim when we've gone to such lengths to prepare a celebration for the two of you." Cora could not understand Mary's reasoning. She knew it was not a love match (yet Cora hoped for the future) but the two of them had seemed content and relatively happy. Mary, while never overly enthusiastic about the party planning, had accepted the gathering as a natural consequence of their social station in life.

Cora's voice was rising in pitch and she felt herself getting increasingly angry at Mary who continued to look on with an unnerving repose of calm detachment.

"I have to give some kind of explanation…" She was cut off by Sybil calling in from the library.

"Uh...you both might want to come in here" she said. "Right now."

Cora and Mary, both now with anxious looks on their faces, walked into the library where Sybil was seated at the desk with her laptop open to a picture of Mary obviously taken at a gathering when she was not looking, in which she appeared cross eyed at the cameraman…and the accompanying headline _"The Runaway Bridezilla! Lady Mary Crawley Calls off Society Wedding."_

"Oh my God," Cora cried out. "How did they get that so fast."

Sybil said, "I got a warning tweet from a friend, saying I had to go check this out. It seems an anon source leaked the info about half hour ago to the Mail."

She pulled her on the side of her mouth with her teeth and looked over at Mary.

Mary had her hand over her face. She simply stared at the computer screen. How? When? Oh God she remembered out in the garden tent. Someone must have overheard her. How could have been so stupid. "Well," she thought. "That's done it. No going back now."

And she turned to face her mother.

Cora, ever the one to recover from any inconvenience and appear even tempered, was unable to understand what has just happened, she looked to her eldest daughter for an explanation.

Violet and Edith walked in to the library overhearing Cora's outburst and wanting to know what all the commotion was about. Matthew trailed a bit behind having a sense of what might be going on between Cora and Mary.

Violet could not read the computer screen from such a distance, but Edith snorted and looked at Mary.

"Well now you'll know. Shoe's on the other foot. See how well you deal with the paparazzi hounding your every step." And just a little too self-satisfied she sat down.

Mary stood apart with everyone awaiting her answer when Sybil refreshed the Mail button and let out another yelp of surprise.

"Oh shit." She said before she clapped her hands over her mouth. Cora hated it when she swore.

But the image on the screen had everyone's attention. The Mail had found an anon source's Instagram account photo of a blonde haired man with a short cropped beard sidling up beside a dark brunette who was smiling at the attention and the playful words being spoken in her ear.

Mary shut her eyes and put her hand to her forehead. Could this get any worse. The headline banner ran _"Lady Mary's lover exposed."_

She turned to look at Matthew whose face had turned ashen white. They locked eyes.

It was at that moment Robert walked in from the double doors leading out to the garden with Isis on a leash.

"What's going on in here? Why …." His voice trailed off as he saw the picture of his daughter laughing and smiling at Matthew who stood intimately close to her and nuzzled her neck.

XX

_Hope to get another chapter out soon! Had to end it on a cliffhanger_!


	10. Chapter 10

Even though the photo was blurry and only showed a dark profile of a blonde haired man- it was Matthew. Just as the woman who turned and smiled as he spoke in her ear was obviously Mary.

Robert walked over to the laptop and peered closely at the image. "That is clearly the two of you. Where was that taken? Why are you being photographed?" He looked at Matthew who had moved closer to Mary. "What's going on here?"

"Dad," Mary started to say but Robert put his hand up.

"No. I want to hear from Matthew." He looked directly at Matthew who took a deep breath. "Why does this …" Robert spit out, "...this rag call you my daughter's lover?"

"They are just embellishing what little information they have for effect." Cora interposed attempting give some meaning to the images she saw on the screen.

But Mary understood far too well what was going on.

"Someone overheard a conversation I was having with mother in the party tent outside…whoever this was… I don't know who… some kind of... of spy or informant I guess on the estate heard that I am calling off the wedding."

Robert turned this time to Mary. "You're what?"

"I've told Ronan I'm no longer going to marry him. I just informed Mother this morning so we can scrap the party plans. Someone must have overheard our conversation in the garden tent. I'm sorry about that. I had no idea my voice carried beyond her ears."

Mary put her head down and her shoulders sagged.

"And the photograph?" At this Robert pointed directly to the computer screen. "Are you saying it's some kind of fake?"

"No." Matthew said, as he came up behind Mary and went to put his hand on her shoulder but she moved slightly away.

"It must have been taken when we all were at that club Sybil took us to in Ripon a couple of weeks ago. Anyone can take these kinds of stealth photos these days." Matthew pushed his fingers down his face and squeezed them.

"I did not know anyone was watching us." Matthew said as he looked up to see Sybil mouth an 'I am so sorry' from across the room.

"Well maybe you should not have been standing so close to another mans' fiancée." Robert said with more than a touch of derision in his voice.

"Obviously these events are all connected. Even your out of touch old father can tell this much. What are you not telling me?"

And he looked at Matthew for this answer.

"Robert can we talk about this in private…" Matthew began to speak.

At that moment Sybil refreshed the news again…"Oh God it keeps getting worse." She turned to Mary, "they must have been in the club the whole time." A series of about three or four slightly out of focus shots of Mary and Matthew at the club bar one with his hand brushing a strand of her hair from her face and another of her walking away as he turned back to order another drink. The article was asking for any information on the man in the picture.

This only renewed Robert's attack. "So you began some kind of clandestine affair under this very house? And in the village? In front of Ronan, For God's sake."

Don't be ridiculous Dad." Mary had enough.

"Someone obviously was using their phone to take a picture of me and sending it to their friends…oh look here I am at the club with Lady Mary. The rest was by chance. No one knew Matthew. We hardly spoke that evening."

Except when she went up to him at the bar and he told her in that smoky voice he would think only of her that night. And she remembered being dangerously pleased at the tingling sensation that thought brought throughout her body.

Now they've ruined that memory. Sometimes she hated her life.

Several of their mobiles all went off at the same time chirping various ring tones and unsettling the atmosphere even more.

Mary looked at hers. It was Ronan. She groaned.

"Well. I don't know what to say…what to think." Robert muttered.

Mary, unable to see the point of pretending any longer, turned directly to her father.

"What do you want to know? If we're lovers? If I've been unfaithful to Ronan? Have I plunged the family once again into disgrace and ridicule? Is this what you want to know Dad?"

Matthew went to calm her down but Mary continued. "…No he wants to hear the truth. It may as well come out now. This was not the way I intended to tell everyone but here we are."

Matthew looked to Robert who seemed about to have an apoplectic fit.

In attempting to make these better, he only made it worse. "I love your daughter, Robert. I had…I have…no intention of hurting… her or the family." He swallowed bitterly at the very lameness of that admission.

"You love her?!" Robert spluttered."But … but….how can this be you hardly know each other."

Mary and Matthew looked at each other. Now or never …

Mary started. "We met in Oxford a few weeks ago at the library refit function. Matthew had just returned from his stint in Afghanistan and we got talking…." She drifted off not really knowing what to say next.

Matthew took a deep breath and finished the story. "We spent the night together."

Robert simply groaned.

At that disclosure Violet said, "I'm going to need some smelling salts if these revelations continue."

She turned towards Matthew, clicked her tongue, and said with a tinge of sadness, "I guess you are going to expose this family to ridicule after all." His shoulders slumped.

"It would never have happened if I wasn't already unhappy with Ronan." Mary said firmly. "Except I know you think it would be better for our family if I just shut down my feelings and stayed."

She was so angry herself for going along with the idea of a loveless marriage just to keep the family out of the scandal sheets and in Downton through Ronan's money.

"No of course not," her father rejoindered, "How dare you. IfYou know me better than that. Despite our…our situation… I would never let you marry against your will."

"Thank you for that." Mary said simply and put her hand on her father's arm.

Matthew finished the story. "I left for Ireland the next day to start work on this project that took me …" he held up his hands "….unexpectedly…to Downton. I had no idea that Mary's family lived here."

"Ha." Robert said, sickened at this admission. "You didn't even know her last name."

"Well…" Matthew started, but decided silence was better.

But Robert was determined to finish. "Well you two put on a fine show. No one even suspected. Such easy marks you must think of us. Here I am walking you around the estate, telling family stories when you knew the whole time…" He drifted off.

Matthew was beginning to understand why Robert focused attention on sorting out Matthew's complicity in the brewing scandal. He had trusted the younger man. Thought they had developed almost a father/son bond. Matthew felt terrible. He accepted the accusation that he had deceived Robert.

"I didn't know how to tell you …"

"Tell me that you were sleeping with my daughter who was engaged to another man, well no … no I suppose you didn't know how to tell me that" and Robert just looked at Matthew "…I am not so old or as unaware as you might think." He threw his hands up and sat down.

Violet, in her inimitable way, put an end to this painful dialogue said, "Well I am done stumbling about the debris. How do we proceed now?"

Sybil, picking up on her grandmother's change of topic, steered the argument towards more practical, and far less intimate, matters said  
"Exactly…what are we going to do now? We need a plan of action."

Mary quickly interjected "Oh no we don't. I don't intend to say anything to anyone. After we finish putting an end to the party and take any official calls I am leaving. I must…I intend to return to Oxford. Alone."

At this she paused but then ended with, "They can have their scandal. I will not participate in perpetuating this story."

Matthew, not sure what he was hearing said, "Mary…" but stopped, certain he did not want to have this conversation in public. It was bad enough that their affair…I guess he now had to call it…was exposed. Was she leaving him as well?

How had everything gone so wrong?

XX

The late morning and afternoon passed in quiet as the family tried to ignore the growing tabloid sensation taking shape on their mobile and computer devices.

It had not taken the more sensational web sites and on line newspapers long to pick up on the Mail's story and to expand it by finding out about Matthew's involvement. Rather lurid and exaggerated stories, emphasizing his last name connection to the family, kept emerging all afternoon: he lied his way into staying at Downton to be near his lover; their trysts, using stock images of Downton from tour brochures, took place all over the estate grounds; the cuckolded ex-fiancé Ronan was disgusted at their presumed genetic link and was begging Mary to return to him.

"So much for my so called friends." He lamented to Sybil. "Wonder which one told them who I was." And he rested his chin in his cupped hands. They were sitting in the archive room while Mary and her mother made calls upstairs and Robert retreated into library for some solitude. Violet removed herself to the guest bedroom for a rest. Edith, divided between wanting to help out the family in some way but realizing she could be more a liability in this case, decided to wait and see what role she might be called upon to play.

"Well," Sybil said, patting Matthew on the back, "I don't think it can get any worse."

He grunted audibly and the two then grinned in grim amusement.

Matthew then said, this time sighing in frustration and anger, "Do you really think she's going to leave." He put his hands on his knees, got up and started pacing the floor. "Is this the end?"

Sybil gave him a pittingly look. "Only if you let it, idiot."

Matthew looked at her. "I don't think she wants to see me. She's so strong and wanting to do everything herself."

"This is exactly why she needs you more than ever."

At that Matthew looked at her incredulously.

"I know my sister. She does nothing without a certain amount of calculation. She wants you. And more to the point she needs you."

Sybil motioned for him to sit down again.

"She thinks she can do this, can do everything alone. That she chose someone to marry who also liked to be in control was typical of her. I tried to tell her it was stupid and she'd live to regret it. But did she listen…No."

Matthew was all ears now. "So…" he encouraged.

"Then she sees you at a party and bam the two of you are going at it like rabbits… sorry…" Matthew attempted to blush but after all the revelations this afternoon he had nothing left. He just threw up his hands and chuckled.

"She found something in you that night. Something she wanted…" Sybil stumbled realizing what she just said, "I mean something other than your manly attributes…." And she puckered her lips together.

At that Matthew just groaned shook his head. Was this going to be his future, all his acquaintances and colleagues using his sudden, and totally unlooked for fame, as a field day for double entrendre and eye brow raising innuendo?

"In all seriousness," Sybil said, attempting to get back on track, "You are what she wants. Otherwise she would never have let it get this far. She needs you even if she can't yet express it. Give her some time. She'll come around."

Matthew regarded Sybil's insightful comments with astonishment. If only he could believe her.

"I've got to see her before she returns to Oxford." He finally said. Slapping his hands on his knees he got up one final time. He turned to Sybil. "Thank you." He said.

XX

Matthew walked up the stairs to Mary's room. It was unlocked. He walked in to see her packing up a suitcase and getting items off a night table.

She turned, thinking it was her mother telling her she had forgotten to call one of the caterers or florists.

"Mother I'm done for now…. I can no longer think straight…" and she stopped as she looked into Matthew's eyes. They were so blue. So sad.

"God Mary," he started, "I'm so sorry for all this." Mary started to correct him- that she indeed was to blame for their current predicament in telling her mother in such a public space, but just gave a tired sigh instead.

"I'm going back to work in Oxford. I have to do something or I'll go mad."

"Do you think retreating is the answer?" He asked querulously, not sure if this was even the right tact to use.

"Well what am I supposed to do? Grant them an interview?" Oh why, she thought, does she feel the need to lash out, even at Matthew? "We can't be seen together. I don't want to give these scandal seekers any more ammunition."

She looked at his face which could never cover up his feelings if he even tried.

"This is not about you. I need to sort things out in my head."

He asked evenly but could not keep the tremor from his voice, "Are we okay?"

Mary, knowing words would do no good, walked swiftly over to the door, closed it and backed him up against the other side. She kissed him deeply until he felt weak at the knees. He grabbed her backside and pulled her towards him.

"Does that answer your question?" She asked, surprised at just how good that felt. Not wanting to let go, she continued to roll her tongue around his mouth.

"Yes." Matthew said, breathless in both relief, and to his horror, arousal.

"Good. Now get out. Dad's bedroom is along this corridor and I don't want him walking down the hallway hearing anything else that we'll have to own up to."

XX

_Okay scandal is now well underway. And I know this chapter ended with a lot of questions still unanswered but it seemed the right place to end this section. They have lots of problems to overcome but they are still together._

_Next up Mary returns to Oxford while Matthew has an unsettling confrontation with Ronan. _


	11. Chapter 11

_Ok. Here it is. Largely unedited and from my heart. _

XX

Mary tried to get most of her work done at home or at the refitted library rather than face the office in the days after one of her worst nightmares came true. She had been in and out of the Old Church St. Design building and, she had to admit, while the atmosphere was tense when she first walked in, there was an air of business as usual. Mary acknowledged there were not as many snickers and sniggering comments from coworkers as she expected. She thought wryly her partners would say any publicity for their firm is good publicity.

But she felt more comfortable alone.

She and Matthew had texted a bit the night she left Downton to return to Oxford. He seemed remarkably even tempered about the whole thing. Her responses were very short and consisted of monosyllabic yesses or noes.

Finally, sensing this edgy quality in her texts, he clicked on her number.

She answered, a monotone, strained voice.

"Mary, darling, what's done is done." He said, pitching the sound of his voice low and soothing.

"As long as we're good, we can get through anything." Matthew, sitting on the floor in the guest bedroom at Downton, wanted nothing more than to believe the truth of that. They had left each other the night before with a passionate kiss. He liked saying the words to reaffirm their commitment.

She said nothing.

The pause lengthened between them. She could hear his short anxious breaths at the other end of the mobile.

"Matthew I need some time to work everything out." She finally said the statement he knew she was going to say. But did not want to hear.

"I hope you understand." Mary tore at the corner of her mouth with her teeth, hating herself but knowing the truth of her words.

"Yes." He responded, reflecting her earlier monotone answers. He coughed, took better control over his words and said, trusting her to make the best decision for herself, "I understand."

Mary, on her end, knew she was sending mixed messages. She had tried to convince Matthew before she left Downton that all was right between them.

But if truth be told, she did not tell him all her thoughts.

If pressed Mary admitted to herself she did not regret 'cutting loose' that night in Oxford. She enjoyed it far too much. She found it deeply ironic she fell victim to that first assessment she made of Matthew -his remarkable disarming charm. Indeed it was becoming clear to her she had to fight to maintain any rational thought with regards to him. Their intimacy, their sexual desire ignited her in places she thought long dormant. And after their time at Downton, she no longer could imagine her life without Matthew in it.

For her that was not the issue at all. They were not the problem.

The reality was tabloid scandal with lurid headlines and half truthed accusations had haunted her every action since Edith's troubles five years earlier. She told herself then she would never have put herself in a situation where she'd be the subject of ridicule and innuendo. How stupid. How foolish. What did Edith expect she had said at the time?

Now, though, now on the other side, it was a very different picture. She was now in the glaring spotlight. And Matthew. His name, his academic reputation, and his personal life now in the scrutiny of unseen eyes. For all she knew their names were now social media trending hashtags as well.

She would take her time from now on. The press had her rushing into the arms of her lover even as she scorned her fiancé. That she could not abide. She would not be pushed into anything. Even if Matthew wanted to make some kind of commitment, which they had danced around when talking to each other, Mary knew she would not accept. Not yet.

Matthew, finally wanting to end the silence, tried to change the tack of the conversation by saying that his mother and sister and called and texted him almost hourly. He had put them off saying that he would visit soon.

But at that news Mary slumped over and dropped down to her knees. It was as close as she came to breaking down.

"Damn it," she said, "Oh Matthew. I'm so sorry. I've been so selfish." Aware that she had blown her first opportunity to make a good impression on his family. She berated herself for concentrating on her own family's reaction and the consequences for herself. But nothing could be done now.

"Shhh." He responded, "No worries." Despite everything he wished he was there to clasp her in his arms and allow her to press into his chest and his warmth.

"Mother is already anticipating meeting you. She says you look lovely in the pictures. I'm the one who's in the dog house for not telling them I was seeing anyone." He kept it light, his tone attempting a playfulness he did not really feel. "Maybe we can set a time…"

"Not right now," Mary said her voice on edge. "I can't meet anyone now. I'm so busy and we cannot be seen together."

"All right." Matthew responded, somewhat thwarted by the finality of those words.

The conversation, at an impasse, they said a simple good-bye and each clicked off.

XX

Matthew woke early the next morning and went for his regular run around the perimeter of the Abbey. He was not completely taken aback by Mary's reaction last night. He knew that she was right that they should not be seen together, as frustrating as that sounded to him. He would play it by ear and give her the time she needed.

And, in any event, he had plenty of other worries to occupy his mind. As he ran his thoughts kept coming back to the notion that this might just be his last day here. That Robert, so angry and embarrassed for the family, would kick him out, no matter that his research was half done.

And really, Matthew thought, who could blame him. Robert would be looking to protect the family and the easiest solution would be to exile the man responsible for putting everyone into the glaring spotlight.

But damn it, what should he have done instead? As he wound his last lap around the edge of the drive he went through his options but none were ideal. Have told Robert? No. He could not have done that. Mary had been engaged and it would have been indecorous to tell. And stupid. So confessed that he too was unaware of Mary's engagement when they met in Oxford? No. That would have just made him a prat. He would never have broken her trust. He also believed he would not have cared if she had told him. And that, he knew, would never be divulged to Robert.

He sighed. It was a no win situation. And now it was too late. They had been on the verge of telling her parents the whole story, but the tabloids got it first. He was very regretful about that but he was not sorry about the way he felt about her. About their relationship. None of it. He doesn't regret their action. He's not going to be shamed by the press into some sort of apology.

The run relaxed him and at least for the moment released some of his pent up stress and anxiety. He ran upstairs had a quick shower, dressed in jeans and a shirt and went back down for breakfast.

Matthew walked into the dining room, aware that he might not be welcome. Taking a deep breath he walked into the door way. Instead of Robert, however, he found the middle sister Edith glancing at her phone while sipping a cup of coffee. He continued in and took a plate from the side buffet. He had not spoken much to Edith either the afternoon or the past evening. Mary, as close as her relationship with Sybil appeared, hardly spoke of her other sister. And when she did it was about the scandal that had erupted five years ago that shook Mary to the core and made her into the private, almost reclusive person she appeared today.

He sat down and gave a brief smile of acknowledgement to the woman now scrolling rather quickly through some messages.

Edith finally said, "I don't know what Mary told you, but I don't bite. I might snap but not bite."

They both grinned.

"Just because Mary and I don't see eye to eye doesn't mean we can't be friends."

"Dare I ask what you're reading?" He said, munching on a slice of toast. He had a half smirk half chagrined look as he tried not to peek at her mobile.

"Well, the latest headline I'm afraid, is _"The Lady is pregnant with Love Child."_ Edith glanced up quickly.

Matthew nearly choked as he almost spit out the toast. "What?! God damn them all. How do they come up with this crap?"

"Oh far too easily I'm afraid. Remember I've been down the road you two are now on" And Edith looked more directly at him. She said, hesitating, "and …I just might be able to be useful here."

"Well I'll listen to anything." Matthew said, cleaning up the crumbs that had spilled from his mouth.

"I think you already know the most important thing is not to give them anything more to feed off of. I made that mistake. I tried to go about my daily life as if they didn't matter. Well I ended up being followed everywhere, hounded by photographers, not really being able to trust even anyone I talked to." Sounding frustrated at those memories, Edith shrugged it off. "Well, let them stew and flail about with what they've got. They'll get bored soon enough and move on to the next Kardashian disaster or twerking incident."

They laughed nervously, but Matthew appreciated her help.

"Where is Mary?" Edith asked, "I went up early last night.

Matthew said, somewhat ruefully, "Mary left late last night. She wanted time alone."

"Sounds just like her. Always wants to handle things on her own."

She turned to Matthew who was listening intently.

"Look Matthew, Mary hates the press. She hates the very idea of public exposure. It's going to take some time for her to accept that something so personal is out of her control. She will believe she should have known better. That she should have been able to control her emotions given the history of the family. She has never really forgiven me for putting us in the tabloid spotlight."

'Couldn't control?" He swallowed. "You think she regrets it? Regrets us being together?" He no longer cared that the family knew of their encounter. He tried not to be frustrated about Mary's reaction but he found himself seeking answers.

"Sybil told me last night that Mary would come around given some time." His voice, though, reflected a growing sense of doubt.

"Oh Matthew…you've got to understand Mary never does anything spontaneous or ill advised. Whatever you experienced with Mary was not her usual self. Sybil and I both know that. And we find it incredibly out of character. Wonderfully so," she acknowledged, putting out her hand to take Matthew's arm.

"When the scandal broke yesterday, I hate to admit it but I liked Mary having to eat her words and accept she had practically begged the press's attention with her public activities," and here she paused and looked somewhat sheepishly at Matthew.

"But that's just petty revenge. And I'm over it." She put her hand on Matthew's arm.

"Sybil's right. It's obvious by the way she's responded that she thinks you're special." Edith quirked her head over to Matthew as she said that. "And to that I say to you good luck, you're going to need it. She has high standards. I never thought she would find anyone who met them. Ronan came close. But she was not in love with him." She said that firmly.

Matthew swallowed hard and licked his lips. He looked over to Edith.

"Question is," Edith said, "Can you live up to those expectations?" She turned her eyes to Matthew.

"Yes." He said, not with a trace of smugness, but sincere truth. "Yes I can."

They smile and Matthew began for the first time in about 48 hours to relax. It was not to last long.

Robert walked in.

He and Matthew look tensely at each other. Neither man knew how to re start their relationship. So much had gone down the previous day…so many confessions unsettled Robert's normally even tempered nature. He knew his children were grown up and leading their own lives. But his natural instinct was to protect Mary from all harm. Even if it came in the form of a man who professed love for his daughter.

Robert moved towards the coffee urn on the side buffet. "I just came in to fill my thermos with coffee…" He turned his back to the table in order to complete the task.

Matthew, half out of his seat, sat back down, a bit crestfallen at the rebuff.

Robert sighed and turned back around. He said, directing his words at Matthew, "would you like to come as I inspect some renovation work done on the old horse stables. I've got a scheme to rent them out to make some money…"

And at that the strained silence started again.

Matthew knew that Ronan's money was going to help out the family. That, although Robert would never say it for he loved Mary too much to acknowledge how much he was relying on Ronan's money and connections in the City to bail out Downton's finances, it was a factor in accepting Matthew. Accepting the fact that Matthew had neither the funds nor the influence Ronan possessed.

"Well" Robert finally completed, "…come on if you want."

"Yes. Thanks." And the younger man followed him out the side door to the garden. Edith mouthed a 'good luck' and smiled.

The two walked in silence, more companionable this time, for quite a spell.

"Let's take the short cut across the garden."

Matthew nodded. He knew the way.

Finally breaking the silence, Matthew started, "Robert, I hope you know, this was not the way we intended to tell you of our relationship. Mary had to work out so much by herself" he hesitated, "…and it was not my place to supersede her trust in this matter. I didn't know what else to do."

Robert nodded.

"I understand that. And I think it speaks well you want to keep Mary's confidences and her privacy. I want what is best for her." He stopped and threw up his hands.

"I am out of my depths here. I'm of a different age where some sort of convention was adhered to. I know things are different now…but given what's happened I'm still not convinced the old fashioned ways might still be best." He harrumphed.

"I know what you must think … that I... I took advantage... or that we acted too recklessly… but I don't usually..." He was babbling now. There was just way he could have this conversation with Robert. No way could he defend that he took the man's daughter to bed hours after learning her name. That he loved every touch, every moment with Mary.

Robert, put up his hand to stop Matthew's ramblings. He did not want to hear Matthew's spluttering defense of a one night stand either.

"Don't bother to explain. That's a private matter, thank God, between you two."

The two men looked at each other. Matthew licked his lips, another of his stress induced tics. Robert had his hands on his hips and then put one of them out and placed it on Matthew's shoulder.

He gave a half smile and said, "I only need to know one thing Matthew. Will you be good to her?"

"I will." Matthew said, echoing his earlier conversation with Edith. The two locked eyes and understood one another.

They then walked on. Once again Matthew felt a measure of relief that was to be short lived.

Robert stopped again. This time a look of apprehension on his face.

"Matthew," Robert said. "Ronan wants to come see me this afternoon." He turned to face the younger man. "Some papers that need to be signed. I…just wanted to warn you. You probably won't see each other but just in case."

Matthew nodded. He did not intend to seek out Ronan's company but would not back down if Ronan wanted some kind of confrontation. He had witnessed a great deal in Afghanistan. He had found himself tested both in will, courage, and strength even as a civilian volunteer. And now wading in the deep waters of aristocracy and privilege, he knew he could easily feel intimidated. Ronan might even expect it.

"Well," Matthew thought, this time with just a touch of confident smugness, "he doesn't really know me then."

Late into the afternoon Matthew had been engrossed in working in the archive. There was still so much to do organizing the files and retrieving all the materials needed to work on the biography of Tom Branson he now envisioned. And he was going to have to go back to Ireland. The project, potentially so exciting to Matthew, was taking on new life of its own. He realized he was going to need all the time until Michaelmas term to complete his research.

For the moment, though, he needed to retrieve a book on parliamentary procedure from the upper library. He walked down the hallway towards the saloon area, holding his reference in his hand. He looked down at the document and as he turned into the library he stopped just short of running right into Ronan as he exited from his meeting with Robert.

Ronan, a look of mixed contempt and anger on his face, merely glared at Matthew.

"Sorry." Matthew half mumbled under his breath and attempted to keep walking. He needed the book and if Ronan wanted to talk he would have to keep up with him. They both entered the small library.

Matthew went to the side wall and began a search for his book. Behind him he heard Ronan cough.

"Do you intend to work your way through all the Crawley women?" Ronan asked, with just a touch of annoyed sarcasm in his voice. "Or was Sybil just not good enough?"

Matthew spun around on his heel. "What?" He said sharply. He had come to think of Sybil as a close friend and he like an older protective brother. "If you have a problem with me, then let's get it out. But don't drag innocent people into it."

"Well wasn't she your girlfriend until you put some kind of move on Mary?" Ronan had been still under this misinterpretation which was one of the reasons why he felt so blindsided by Mary's rejection and the subsequent glaring headlines identifying the man supposedly responsible for her change of heart being the same one he had met ever so briefly at the Ripon club. He remembered Matthew to be something of a jumped up academic who had accused him of complicity in the Libor scandal. But he had been too focused on getting Mary to Paris to bother getting worked up over Matthew's sarcastic comments. If he recalled any tension that night at all he had dismissed it as pre wedding jitters. Now he was seeing just how manipulated he had been.

"No." Matthew said simply. "I had actually just met Sybil that same day. We had a shared interest in volunteer work. That's all."

"So…" Ronan continued to try to grasp on these events. "Your interest in Mary…." He felt a fool for being so obviously deceived. Rather it was deliberate or accidental he did not know. But he did not like it all the same.

"I don't want to get into it with you." Matthew said, not sure whether he had the right to disclose their private affairs without her complicity. Not sure he wanted or cared to tell Ronan anything.

"Well I think I have the right to know given the circumstances. After all yours and Mary's faces are not the only ones being bandied about on the tabloids." Ronan had been appalled that his family was find that he was party to a tabloid scandal. The family name and title being used for comic effect was beyond the pale in his circle.

"That was never meant to happen. And I'm sorry about that. We…I …err… " Matthew sighed and shook his head. "I don't like it any more than you do."

"Do you really think Mary has some romantic notion that she might be in love with you. I told her it was just nerves. Who knows, this little escapade and its' results might just be the thing to get her to settle down."

"Don't talk about Mary like that." Matthew said through tense teeth

Don't tell me how to talk about a woman I've known for over ten years. You are the one who barely knows her." Ronan hated himself for getting worked up over this incident but he could not restrain himself any longer.

"You waltz in and sweep her off her feet. Is that what you think? " Spluttering now, he spit out, "Or rather you used her as a one night stand and now she thinks she's in love with you… well I guess you can call that a conquest. Now go away and let us get on with our lives. I'm quite sure Robert will be happy to see the back of you. He needs me, you know. I've been good to this family."

Matthew could hear no more. "Mary is quite able to make up her own mind. You don't need to remind her of your influence over the family. She's more than capable of dealing with it."

You just don't get it do you. Your little escapade is over…we're all back to reality now. Mary will come her senses and see that all she really wants is not with some poor scribbler of an academic who can't rub two cents together. You just don't fit in." And at that Ronan pushed his on his cufflinks and pulled his shirt sleeve down from where it had ridden up his arm.

Matthew spat out,"You don't realize do you man, you've already lost. Even if Mary and I don't work out," and he gulped at the thought, but continued, "she's never coming back to you. Your world, your society is what stifling her."

Ronan scoffed, "And you think you'll satisfy all her needs?"

"I've done quite well up to now." Matthew said before the words could be recalled out of his mouth.

Ronan just stared daggers. "Your need to insinuate yourself into this family is pathetic. You reek of envy. You'll never fit in here. You think you're so clever. Using your flimsy family connection to insinuate yourself into the Grantham line. Even Robert seems under your spell and your research into the family."

Matthew had not known Robert told Ronan of his interest in the Grantham history.

Ronan played one of his last cards, "You know they have no money, if that's what you're after…"

Matthew just rolled his eyes and continued walking. "You fucked up bastard". Matthew said, low and under his breath. And saying louder, "You can have all this. But you'll never have Mary."

That finally unsettled Ronan enough he looked like wanted to thrash Matthew like a head boy at a public school.

Matthew looked at him coolly. "Are we to take this outside?" He asked his voice low and even. His eyes locked on the other man.

Matthew knew that was a low blow and that Mary would roll her eyes at his attempted male ego bruising but he was beyond caring about what this guy thought of him.

Finally Ronan stopped talking. He took a few moments to stare at the man in front of him. He just did not get it. Matthew looked nothing special.

He held up his hands. "What is it?" He asked exasperated. "What do you have to offer?" He really could not understand this turn of events. Befuddled by how Mary could choose someone like Matthew over himself.

Matthew, not sure where it came from let the words just spilled out of his mouth. He also knew full well Mary might just reject both of them. But at least he would have helped to free her from the clutches of a life that would have strangled her.

"That I will love Mary Crawley until the last breath leaves my body." He said it evenly, clearly, with no attempt to hide his emotions. The words raw, and clutching at the back of his throat, as he understood just how much he meant it.

Ronan simply continued to stare. Matthew turned and walked back downstairs. Knowing that the future was uncertain, but feeling a calm sense of assurance. That what Sybil, what Edith had been trying to tell him was true. They could work it all out. They belonged together. He was the right guy. Now he needed to give Mary all the time she needed to settle her life. He could wait for her.


	12. Chapter 12

_Okay this chapter covers events about a month after the scandal and Mary and Matthew are together for a good portion…_

_XX_

As she sought to duck out of the rain Mary made her way to the St James Library walkway, or grand paseo to use its trendy design term. She loved the way her adaptive design fit into the medieval structure of the college while it functioned to connect the library to other parts of the school through a series of covered paths. The plans were all coming together in this the last phase of the library refit. Mary moved swiftly through the double doors and into the private office set up to meet with contracts on site. There seemed to be some question as to whether the Special Collections area could accommodate more seating while still meeting the recommended humidity and temperature control settings.

As she and the head contractor worked over the numbers, Mary also fielded some phone calls from the movers as the new tables and work stations were being installed in the main reading room. The oak timbered doorways seemed to be too narrow to accommodate the larger tables.

Mary sighed and rolled her eyes. She both loved and dreaded the last phase of any project. The excitement of getting everything finally rolled out and fitted always resulted in last minute foul ups or confusion in execution. But right now she wanted any and all distractions and gave herself over to fixing all the last minute disputes and complaints.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed someone looking around at the fluted Doric columns that reached up to a series of balustrade balconies. The main glazed and stained glass windows met rounded arches that encased the entire interior façade of the building. The lighting effect, especially when the sun hit the windows in the late afternoon, pleased Mary but it also was a source of serious consternation to the head librarian. The constant battle against heat damage to the fragile books cased in that area had been resolved in the refit by moving the collection down into a cooler, low light area while leaving the original space open to public seating or study use.

Sybil turned and waved at Mary. She was in the middle of the long vac and was staying with Mary for the weekend before leaving to meet up with some friends for some volunteer work at a local hospital. Mary made a gesture that she'd be with her in a minute so Sybil took a seat and pulled out her phone.

"Are you ready?" Mary asked as she walked up to Sybil a few minutes later. "Has it finally stopped raining?" She peered out one of main entrance windows and debated whether to pull on her rain coat.

"Stopped a while ago." Sybil said. "We'll be fine." And she put her mobile back in her pocket and took Mary's arm. Sybil was so glad that Mary would be having lunch with her. It was a big step.

It had been a month since the worst of the tabloids had stopped putting her life on display in their head lines. And although she still looked twice in any situation and fretted about appearing in public areas, Mary had resolved not to let them dictate her life.

Sybil walked around the corner from the library and started to walk into a nearby sandwich shop. Mary hesitated outside just a fraction of a second. Sybil turned and raised an eyebrow. Mary gave the briefest of nods and followed her sister into the café. They bought their sandwiches at the take away station and walked back outside to sit in the covered seating area. The misty rain had given way to a brief period of sun and rising temperatures.

Mary had a wisp of a smile on her face that to Sybil appeared as if she was keeping a secret.

"What gives?" Sybil finally said.

Mary gave her sister a wry look. She puckered her lips and slowly breathed out. "This is the same café where Matthew and I went after the library refit launch party."

She took a bite of her sandwich. "Just think if the rags got a hold of that information right now." She gave a sigh. "They've ruined everything. Everywhere I go I think the same things. Are they following me? What new lies will they make up?"

"Mary they ruin it only if you let it." Sybil responded. "Your memories are you own." She looked over at the café entrance. "So you left here and went…" and her eyes moved back to Mary to answer her unspoken question.

Mary, a smile dancing at the corners of her mouth, said "We walked in the rain to a gazebo in the park. And then we ended up in front of his in college rooms."

"Oh by chance, did you?" Sybil smirked. "Wow. Matthew is more the operator than I thought. Those baby blue eyes and butter wouldn't melt expression …."

"That is quite enough." Mary said with mock solemnity.

"I'm very happy for you both, you know that." Sybil said. "As a matter of fact, one of the reasons I'm here is because Matthew was so down in the dumps before he left for Ireland." She gave Mary a pitying look. "Please put the poor boy out of his misery."

"Oh Sybil you exaggerate. We talk and text all the time." Unconsciously she pulled out her mobile and checked it for messages. She looked up. Sybil actually looked really worried now.

"I know it's been awhile." Mary said, "It just seems too…."

Sybil interjected quickly. "It's not too soon and I am serious Mary. You two need to get together."

Mary simply nodded. She knew what she wanted to do. Grab Matthew away from Downton and hide out with him in some remote cottage in Cornwall. One night she had texted that idea to Matthew and they proceeded to plan out the entire romantic getaway complete with some very intimate details. Matthew had half-jokingly signed off saying if they did not stop now he'd be in his car and take her right now down the coast. Mary, on the other hand, worried about some phone hacker and tried to delete all her messages.

The two women walked down the street with Sybil satisfied she had pushed Mary, if imperceptibly, in the direction she wanted her to take.

XX

Matthew heaved his bag full of laundry out of his car. He pulled into the Downton drive on his way back from Liverpool where the ferry had docked from Ireland. Matthew had (at least he hoped so) finished up the majority of his research into Branson's life. It might take one or two shorter trips back to Dublin but for the most part the most demanding tasks had been completed. The rest could be completed accessing on line materials. Even he admitted that it was the easiest way to accomplish a lot of the newspaper and journal work. He intended to drop all his work off in the archive, leaving the lap top and the thumb drives and the paper copies to analyse later. He hesitated about the laundry though. Anna, coming out to help, told him it would be fine to leave it for the day staff to handle. He smiled appreciatively.

Matthew had left for Ireland three weeks ago. In order to submit a formal book proposal to the Oxford University Press he needed to get that research complete. He and Mary had exchanged texts about it and they both agreed it would be a purposeful way to fill in the time she wanted to separate them from the scandal.

Coming back from inside the house where she dropped off the laundry bag, Anna returned with a patterned leather overnight bag. While on the ferry back from Ireland Matthew had phoned Anna to request that she pack a night case for Mary. The texting with Mary had got him thinking and if he could not exactly swing an isolated house on the coast ,he had a plan that if everything worked out would find them in a cosy cottage in Nottingham by the late evening.

In the mean time they were to dine with his mother and sister in Manchester.

He gave Anna a grateful look and got back in the car.

He left his car at the small train station at Downton and caught his train to Manchester. He planned to get to the Manchester Piccadilly station before the train from Oxford arrived. He put his duffle bag and Mary's leather bag in one of the left luggage lockers to be retrieved after eating with his family.

He paced the platform and checked the clock and even asked the porter if the trains were running as scheduled.

When the train from Oxford pulled in Matthew looked in the cars before spotting Mary. Mary was in the next to last car. He walked quickly over and held out his hands to clasp hers. She looked stunning Matthew thought in a pale pink knee length summer dress with bare shoulders and spaghetti straps that wrapped around to her back. He gulped as he took her arm. He gave her lips a light, brushing kiss.

"You should not have worn that." He whispered.

"Well it's been so hot lately but I do have a sweater if it gets chilly." She then turned and looked over at Matthew whose eyes were bright with desire.

She started to tease, "Matthew...You look as if you want to take me right now up those station stairs naked."

He winked and answered just as cheekily, "Don't tempt me. I might just try it."

They laughed and kissed again.

"It's lovely to see you." Mary said, now being in Matthew's warm and comfortable embrace, she remembered just how much she had missed him.

And Mary had to admit he looked equally desirable in a blue striped button down shirt and khaki pants. He had a pair of sunglasses placed right below his unbuttoned top button and she could see just the outline of his chest under the shirt. This was going to be more difficult than she imagined getting through this first meeting without getting distracted their mutual need. She wondered why she had not thought to book a hotel room. The idea of staying with his mother was not attractive at all.

They held hands as he led her down several side streets until they arrived at a modest but well loved detached home with a rose garden in the front and hedgerows along the sides. He led her up the path and opened the door. Matthew audibly heard Mary's intake of breath.

He placed a kiss on her nose and said in her ear. "They're going to love you. As I do."

He called out as they walked in the entrance way, "Mother we're here."

Out of the kitchen popped the head of a woman with soft brown greying hair and the same azure blue eyes as her son.

"I'm up to my elbows in dough at the moment. Sorry l always wait till last minute to make the pie. It tastes so much better right out of oven. Don't you think?" And she gave Mary a smile.

Mary was afraid for a moment she would be asked to help and appear every inch the stereotyped aristocratic girl helpless in the kitchen. Which, she ruefully reminded herself, she was. Sybil had tried to teach her some gourmet style meals but after several disasters even Sybil gave up.

"Hello Mrs. Crawley." Mary said. They had not discussed what his mother desired to be called so she fell back on the customary polite term.

But instead his mother called her over and said, "Call me Isobel, dear. I'll try not to get too much flour on that lovely dress." And gave Mary's cheek a quick kiss. "We're so glad to meet you."

Mary walked the rest of the way into the kitchen where she was taken aback to realise the presence of another person in the kitchen.

"Oh hello." Mary said trying to not appear startled.

Matthew sister Kate sat near the window drinking a glass of white wine. "Come on in. Have a glass. The food might be awhile." And she made room on the window seat next to her for Mary to sit.

Soon the two young women were chatting effortlessly. At one point the two had their heads close together with Kate talking to Mary in low tones, pointing fingers and gesturing in Matthew's direction, and both then descending into peals of laughter.

Mary, to Matthew's certain knowledge, had never laughed so much in his presence. This was so out of character, that Matthew, stuck in the dining area listening politely to his mother as she arranged the cutlery, was desperately curious to find out what stories his big sister had dragged out of their past to embarrass him in front of the woman he loved.

His curiosity got the best of him and he left his mother in mid-sentence and walked in the kitchen.

Kate gave him a look and put out her hand as if to say, don't interrupt me.

"Matthew had just turned 16 and I was 17. He attended a public school as a scholarship student but he came home on weekends. I went to all girl day school" she rolled her eyes at that memory. "Anyway...I could never figure out why some friends from school would insist on coming over to the house on Friday nights. We weren't all that close..."

At this point in the story Matthew started to interject, but Kate held up her hand again. "Ah!" She said.

And Matthew stopped. His face flushed with red as he realized what story his sister was recounting. He folded one arm across his chest and the other he put to his face and pulled his hand across his chin. It was a gesture of resigned defeat.

"So I had no idea why these girls wanted to be with me." Kate gestured with her arms "until it dawned on me. They were there in hopes that Matthew would be home." She gave him a withering look. "He was completely clueless around girls."

"Oh your brother is so cute they'd say. You think he'd come over and talk with us?" At this point Matthew helplessly looked on and gestured with one arm outward as if to say let's just get on with the ritual humiliation shall we…

"One time he walked into kitchen and knocked over …oh what was her name." Kate looked to Matthew who was no help at all. "…well whatever her name was… she was standing with a Coca Cola in her hand and he walked through the door and knocked it out of her hand and all over her blouse. He was so flummoxed that he grabbed a towel and started to wipe down her blouse." Tears of laughter were now forming at the sides of Kate's face from the telling of the story.

"He put the towel on her chest and in the process touched her breast..." Kate gestured as she told the story. "He backed away and jerked his head upward. He absolutely froze when he saw she was actually smiling. I think he mumbled an expletive and the next thing I know he's out of the room."

Mary giggled softly at the story. She could just see a young blue eyed baby faced Matthew as just the type to get teen girl hearts racing.

Matthew rolled his eyes at Kate. She could not resist saying "I guess he got over the shyness."

And Kate went and hugged him. She just reached to his shoulder level. "Oh it's so good to see you. You've been away too long."

His just over six foot frame allowed him to place a kiss on the top of his sister's head. "Same to you."

He clapped his hands together. "Enough mortification for one night." And he led both of them back into the dining area where his mother had everything finally arranged to her liking.

The conversation started slowly. No one wanted to bring up the recent tabloid events.

Matthew spoke first. "So Mary's redesign of the library is almost complete." And he looked across the table to where she sat. "When I get back to Oxford I can't wait to see it."

"Oh yes." Kate took up the thread of the conversation but almost immediately blundered with "...now that's where you two got together right?" And then tried to bite her tongue "uh ...I mean . .. Oh...damn." She gripped her utensil tighter.

"It's fine Kate." Mary reassured her. She had liked Kate instantly and felt she was going to be a strong ally for them.

"Yes." Mary took up smoothly and turned it around. "Matthew balked at my modernizing efforts..."

Kate, grateful at the save, said with a light chuffing sound. "That's sounds just like him...hates it when they change something he's grown used to. You know he still has his record player from when we were kids and he found it in the closet. He tinkered with it till he got it working."

"And a good thing too." Matthew interjected. "It just needed some love and attention. I've had many years of enjoyment listening to that thing."

And he gave Mary a private look of shared intimate memories of that record player and their night in Oxford.

Mary thought, "Well maybe not everything was ruined by the tabloids." And she kept his gaze steady without blinking.

In that moment Mary realized she loved him. A love that was both raw in its passion and enduring in its potential longevity. It startled her to realize how close she had come to losing this chance at mutual love where each lived for and with the other. And determined not to be blinded by her own need for privacy but to give herself over to the idea no matter how much it frightened her.

Mary began some small talk again.

Isobel looked over at Mary and noticed the shared look between her son and this new woman in his life. She found herself liking this young, intelligent woman but at the same time was concerned. She could not help it. Isobel had tried during the past month with the scandal and its aftermath to believe it was no big deal that her darling son was dating someone who lunched at Buckingham palace and was accustomed to a life they simply could not provide.

"I saw your father in the papers a few months ago. Something about receiving regimental retirement honours." Isobel tried to keep her voice steady, but failed in the attempt as it came out with a slight nervous tic of the side of her mouth.

"Yes." Mary replied smoothly, ignoring the catch in Isobel's throat. She did not want Matthew's mother to feel that she lived for such ceremonies.

"Dad loves all that pomp and circumstance." She rolled her eyes. "He lives in a different age most of the time. Which is why I think Matthew's going to fit right in." And she put her hand out and placed it on Matthew's arm. "He's certainly a favorite now digging around and finding all this family history. Dad gets so excited."

Isobel let Mary's attempt to put her worries at ease. And the conversation flowed to Matthew's time in Afghanistan and Mary spoke about Sybil's renewed obsession with volunteering overseas in some capacity which perked Kate's interest immediately. She started to speak but Matthew interrupted her. He did not want to start any long conversation.

"Yes well, we'll bring Sybil over some time. But right now we have to be leaving soon."

He got up from his chair, "...we both need to be back in Oxford...so..."

Mary looked up slightly confused. She had wondered if they were to stay longer into the night would Isobel mind putting them up.

But Matthew continued to stand and ever so slightly stare at her from the corner of his eye. He slightly nodded and raising an eyebrow as if to prompt her...

"Yes. I'm afraid so." She said, latching onto the idea of them leaving. "But what s lovely meal. Let me help carry some things back to the kitchen."

Eventually after promising Isobel that they'd get together for lunch Mary was ready to leave. After some hugs and good-byes they were on the sidewalk and walking back to the station

She poked him in his side. "Mind if you tell me what's happening." Mary asked. "It seemed almost rude to leave so soon..."

"Mother would have kept us for hours." Matthew responded. And he turned to Mary. There will be plenty of time for you two to get to know each other." He said more confident now than he had ever been.

"But right now," and he moved towards her, "we've not seen each other for a month and I intend to get reacquainted..."

"Oh yes and how is that going to happen." Mary asked as he slipped his arm around her waist.

Well first" he kissed her. "We collect some things I stored at the station and then we're going to take a short train ride and by evening we'll be alone" He kissed her again. "All alone for the next two days in our own private cottage."

"Oh Matthew." Mary tilted her head up to look at him. "You didn't book us anywhere. What if we're recognised...?"

"No… no." He whispered as he brushed his lips against hers again.

"My colleague from college JS Cowan is lending us use of his cottage in Nottingham. It used to be his sister's place but now he rents it out. I've been there a couple of times already."

"My my you have changed since that shy teen age boy." Mary flirted. "And ...just how many other women have you brought there."

"Oh hundreds my darling." He smirked and looked at her from under his eye lids.

She laughed.

He said more seriously, "I went there alone, alas, to study and write when my college flat mates got too rowdy."'

"So come on." And he took out of the left luggage her overnight bag that Anna had packed and his own bag. He closed the locker.

"How did you…" Mary started to ask. He replied quickly, "Anna gave me some help."

"Now no more questions. Let's get out of here."

They boarded the outgoing train and stayed close together until he indicated that their stop was imminent.

Once in Nottingham, they walked the rest of way. Matthew pulled out a key to cottage, opened the door, and flipped on the lights.

He then dropped the bags on the floor and threw himself on the couch.

"Thank God we're here..."

And he held out his arm.

"Come here..."

Mary approached, stopped, and asked with just a touch of sarcasm. ""Is that an order my Lord..."

"No." He replied. "I would never be so bold. Just a request from a loved starved man." And he grinned and looked up at her with such a longing desire it was palpable in the air.

Mary relented and moved to sit in his lap and he leaned further in to the couch so they could cuddle together with his arms fully around her waist and her head on his shoulder.

The night was theirs. They intended to take their time and make the most of all of it.

XX

_And yes I'm leaving it there…anticipating the next chapter full of (as my beta would say) 'the good stuff.' If all goes well (and I do still have my secret Santa fic to write….) I will post the next chapter later this week. _


	13. Chapter 13

_Short but sweet_

_XX_

The evening had turned cool and the fire Matthew nursed into being warmed the chilly night air. Kate had handed Matthew a bottle of wine before he left and he placed it in his duffle bag at the train station. After they settled into the cottage for the night, Mary found some glasses in the cupboard in the kitchen and poured each glass. She brought it outside to where Matthew was still playing around with the outside fire pit.

Matthew poked at the wood trying to get the flames to spread. Once he was done, he moved to lie down on the pillows and coverlets Mary had brought from the inside guest bedroom. He placed himself behind Mary and rubbed his arms up and down the side of her thighs and waist.

"You are so beautiful." He said. His breath, shallow and hard, was warm against her ear. He nibbled around, in his mind, her perfectly formed ear lobe as his touch became even more delicate yet intimate. His mouth insistent, his tongue darting in and out.

She turned her head so that her face was now against his mouth. Her lips touched his. Light kisses at first became more demanding. His hands slipped under the coverlet and touched her shirt. Then under her shirt to her breasts. His fingers, moving and encircling the nipples, came together and pinched and tugged.

Mary gasped at the sensations. His touch had become so welcome. So much their own. They knew each other now. They knew how to touch. They knew each other intimately. What touch would create the most desired sensations. The familiarity made it even more personal, the touches they only gave to each other.

As his hands moved further down her torso, he hesitated. But, almost unbidden, his arm continued down under the pull string of her night clothes. He moved his hands onto her thighs. She moved up closer to his groin where her behind rubbed against him. She could feel his hard arousal.

She lay into him even closer. They snuggled together like that for a few minutes, seeming an eternity. Neither wanted to move. But each knew, discretion being the better part of avoiding the paparazzi in the bushes, that if this was to go farther, they needed to get back inside the house.

Reluctantly they parted. He gave half smile as he helped her up and the chill of the night air caught them. She shivered and he moved to cover her body with his own. They stayed very close together again. And then parted once more, Mary gathering up the coverlets, Matthew trying to dampen the fire down to embers.

Matthew locked the double doors behind them. Mary closed the curtains. She turned around. He took the coverlets out of her hands and threw them back onto the floor. This time in the living area. He lay her down gently and kept his arm behind her back and he lay down on top of her.

"We have all night." He said. "Should we make the most of it?" And he started to gently remove her night shirt and kiss her stomach. His lips lightly touching each part of her skin. Her arms came down onto his back. She dug her nails in as she gasped at his touch. She pulled him down harder on top of her. She gasped in contentment as she felt the weight of his body.

Surprising Matthew she quickly moved from under the weight and warmth of his body to move on top of him. His breaths were short as he looked up at her, naked from the waist up, and moved his arms towards her waist and breasts.

Mary, sitting astride him, undid his belt buckle and zipper. He helped her take off the trousers as his breath became raspy and short. She touched him and he trembled. She moved her body up and down his torso. Her breasts touching his face, his chest, his abdomen. Matthew's breaths became ragged with desire.

She pushed herself down onto him. They moved together in unison. He took his hands and kneaded his fingers into her backside as he gently pushed her further and further down onto him. She arched her back in pleasure as they continued to press and pull together. He pulled himself in and out of her body as his pleasure increased and became more difficult to contain.

Mary felt himself inside her and sighed in utter contentment. Until she too needed the climax that her body demanded. Even in the chill of the evening beads of perspiration formed on her forehead as she pushed herself against him, wanting, wanting it. Their breaths, ragged and shallow. Their voices, moaning and murmuring utterances of pleasure. "Oh Oh." Matthew finally said as he jerked against her from the coverlet. She pushed even further down. "Mary," his voice sounding her name out as a synonym for utter pleasure, groaned as he finished inside her.

Mary, feeling his need meet hers, cried out as she too climaxed. She stayed on top of him, he still inside her, for a few moments as she caught her breath and lay down on top of his abdomen. When her breathing became more even, she moved off his body and the night chill caused him to shiver as he placed the coverlets over them both.

Matthew finally moved up onto his side, leaning on his elbow, and looked over at Mary. His eyes, translucent in the soft glow emanating from the other room, darkened as his pupils adjusted to the light. He gave a half smile as Mary returned his look and touched his face with her fingers.

"I think I can get very used to this." She said putting her head down onto his chest and listening to his heartbeat, the pulsation rhythmically and soothing. She lifted her head back up and looked into his eyes. He smiled and brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

"Matthew." Mary said, serious in tone. He took in her look and said, "what is it darling?" His brow furrowed.

"Matthew… I don't know how to say this… I never have…" She licked her lips and continued to look into his eyes. "I love you." She laughed lightly as she said it and her face reddened.

"I know it's foolish to have trouble saying the words…but …" and she said trying it out again, "I love you."

""_I am two fools, I know; For loving, and for saying so_."" He said, his voice quavering on the words of John Donne. "I ask nothing more than to love you for all the days and nights of my life."

She shivered with his words. They both frightened and calmed her with the possibilities of a life together. A life of love and happiness that she had never envisioned, had never believed possible for her.

XX

After the intensity of their love making session neither wanted to leave the comfort of the cocoon of blankets that had surrounded their bodies. But after a while Mary moved to put her night clothes back on and Matthew gathered up the coverlets and took them back into the guest bedroom. He now regretted not going out as soon as they arrived at the cottage to stock the pantry with some desserts and cookies as he was now ravenously hungry.

"You think any place is open?" He asked, tugging on his trousers and pulling up his socks. "I'm going to go out and search around." She just looked at him.

"What?" He asked, quirking his eyebrow up. "I'm hungry!"

Mary threw a pillow at him.

_XX  
Ok. I know odd place to finish a chapter. But it's short, sexy and sweet. And there's an argument to come…and some make up sex to come… haha._

_Plus with all the MM love on tumblr and the Santa fics taking up my time for the next few days…I want to get this out!_


	14. Chapter 14

_Wrapping myself in a cocoon of fan fic bliss….here's my MM trying to work out just where they stand with each other._

XX

Matthew's elbow poked her side one too many times the previous night. And he thrashed around too much for her liking. Mary preferred the sound slumber of her own double bed in her own condo or the canopied bed of her room at Downton. She pretended to sleep when Matthew finally and rather reluctantly got up, showered and dressed.

Mary also liked privacy in her wash and brushing up. She sighed as she finished cleaning the toothbrush and placed it back in the case provided by Anna. It was very sweet of him to plan this getaway and to have Anna pack her case just to her liking. But it was going to take some time before she got used to sharing her life this intimately with anyone.

The result however, was that she woke up in a foul mood.

Matthew readied to go out and explore Nottingham. He had pulled up several tourist sites on his phone…even though he preferred to just go out and wander he thought Mary might want an itinerary. He walked into the kitchen and rummaged around the mix of crackers and crisps he had bought at the gas stop last night. What he really wanted was a full breakfast.

Mary walked in, saw the litter of crisp packets and crumbs on the counter and viewed with dismay that Matthew walked right past them. She gave a sigh she hoped sounded rather martyred in her lack of desire to clean up after any man. But yet he took notice of her look. This made her even more aware of the intimacies of living together was not to her liking. With an audible grumble she swept the contents off the counter and into the rubbish bin.

"What about the rail museum?" He asked when she came into the living area. He noticed she looked fresh and clean in leggings and a tank top. He looked up from his phone and smiled. He could learn to love seeing her every morning.

"I think we missed the Robin Hood Festival in Sherwood Forest, I'm afraid." And he clicked his tongue in mock disappointment.

"I don't feel like going anywhere." Mary said, pulling her hair around her shoulder almost in a gesture of defiance.

"Mary" he said quizzically, sensing her doubt and looked over at her, "If you want to stay inside we can sure do that" and he gave her a lift of one eyebrow.

It was all she could do not to give him an eye roll. Did he really think he was the cat's meow all the time?

"But" he continued oblivious to her actions, "I did think a nice lunch at least?"

Matthew, to his way of thinking, modulated his voice trying not to get worked up but he was tiring of sneaking around. Not that he wanted to walk out and give the paparazzi what they sought, something like planting a big snog on Mary in a public place. At least not exactly. At least, he thought, not that he would tell Mary.

He gave Mary a steady gaze. But the image in his head would not go away. Just how wonderful it would be to sit under the sun at an outdoor table and have a simple meal.

Like they did at a café in Oxford. That night. The night when his life began anew.

"Or we could go just back to Oxford…" She said the words coming out more curtly than she might have intended.

But it certainly brought him back to reality.

Matthew closed his eyes and grimaced. He had set himself up for that fall. He swallowed and took a series of deep breaths before he answered…he needed to calm his first response which moved in his brain as "WTF do you mean 'go back to Oxford?'"

It still came out part petulant and part infuriated.

"You're not serious." …

"What if…" she started… "Someone might see…" Couching her unease and rather fractious intentions in terms of the scandal seemed the safest bet.

He rolled his eyes in frustration but she snapped back before he could get any words out.

"Well you can always go out alone if you want."

And with rising, sarcastic inflection Mary added "who knows you maybe you'll get lucky and find someone to take around. We both know how good you are at that."

"You are an infernally exasperating woman…" He said through shut teeth trying not to show the irritation growing in his voice.

He put his hands through his hair and pushed it back onto his scalp.

Mary pushed back.

"And you are someone I don't entirely trust." Not even sure why those words came out of her mouth Mary flinched. But somehow they seemed right.

Matthew, now primed, decided to fight back.

"Trust?" He asked with more of a peevish tone entering his voice, "What does that have to do with going out to lunch?"

She just shook her head.

Matthew, unsure what they were really arguing about, started in on the word again. "How can you say that?" Pausing again, and then "You can't mean that after all we…"

"We've had sex, Matthew." She said, with a touch of distance to her voice. "Don't make more of it than there is." Mary felt more comfortable on the offensive.

"Why do you keep pushing me away?" Matthew finally said.

Standing next to the fireplace, her arms protectively crossed in front of her, Mary could not actually put into words her fear. It was simply there. Undefinable even to herself she felt more comfortable keeping him at a distance even as she moved closer to him physically.

The comfort she found in his arms, in making love to him, did not translate to their everyday lives.

She found strength, or so she had always believed, in being alone.

She could move through her world, giving the appearance of friendliness while maintaining her safety distance. Only when she realized that did she understand why she had stayed so long with Ronan. Not for love. But because so little was expected of her except to look good and show up and follow etiquette.

Now, here, with him, she needed to be without the masks that protected her. He expected to wake up next to her. To share a life with her eventually.

And that, irrational as it was, angered her.

All that came to her was a desire to fight against it.

Now they stood, standing off, neither wanting to say anything to give ammunition to the other.

"If you want me to leave, just say so. We can end it right now." He stood, his legs extended and his hand gripping his face. His voice detached and cool.

"No." Mary said. "No. I don't want that."

"Then I don't understand." He shook his head, his frustration level growing.

"Did you not mean what you said last night?" His voice catching on the words, even as he realized how pathetic he sounded.

She knew what he referred to. She had declared her love for him.

And it was love. A love so deep it scared her. A love she had fought against acknowledging.

"Yes I do. " She looked him at him but he walked away. "But maybe we just need to take some time…"

He would not let her finish. He was pacing now along the carpet border.

"Oh yes? And just how long am I to wait? Will eight years be enough?" He scoffed.

Now he was getting mad.

Indeed Matthew was just getting warmed up.

"But that's just it. Isn't it. You've always got to have your men right where you want them?" Testing out some of the ideas Ronan had placed in Matthew's head.

"You want love on your own terms, don't you?" Matthew walked towards her.

"The kind that you can control." He took a step back realizing he was hovering over her face.

"The kind Ronan offered. The kind 'your set of people' prefers." Matthew sneered, his voice taking on the mocking tones of an aristocrat. "No hard feelings? You know, no mess, no fuss?"

He shrugged, imitating Ronan's dismissive gesture. He turned away from Mary.

"You know he said to me…" Matthew paused hard… "He actually warned me that you were using me to get out some jitters before you settled down to your accepted role." He pushed his lips through his mouth and swallowed.

He said bitterly, "I told him he was a fucking bastard for saying that."

He turned, ashen faced.

He looked at her, saying with a touch of scorn in his voice. "Well perhaps he did know you better than I thought."

"No Matthew. No." Mary said, moving over to him. "I don't know what I'm saying." She sighed. "It's just I've never been this open with anyone."

He pulled his arm away from her. "Then what?" Still worked up he demanded an answer.

She said, the words finally coming out, "People just don't fall in love this easily…"

"Easy?" He said with a look. "You call this easy?"

She observed again with that irritatingly distant quality that made Matthew flinch.

"I think that once the initial attraction is over….the great sex…which admits it…is what brought us together…you'll move on… and … and I'll look foolish." Putting into words at least one of her fears.

"Am I that shallow? How can you say that?" He looked, however, like a guilty child stealing a lollipop.

"You asked." She observed, dryly.

"Matthew, admit it. You've never had much trouble attracting women."

Again he pulled his hands down his face. "I guess. Is that what this is all about? You're afraid I'm not going to be faithful?" He looked incredulous at this idea. "That we're not going to last?"

"Look how we met." She said. "It doesn't make for longevity."

"No." he said. "I guess it might seem so."

And, his voice getting lower in register took on a serious quality.

"But when you left…" He said, "that morning in Oxford…."

Mary put her head down. Matthew went over and took her hands in his. She looked up into his face.

He started again…"When you left and I had time to stew about things the angrier I got. Yet I couldn't get you out of my mind."

"When I was in Ireland." His voice got suddenly raspy, uncertain … "I went to the local pub after I dumped my bags at college." He swallowed hard. Pursing his lips he said…

"I met someone."

He looked up, his eyes moving back and forth. "I… I wasn't going to tell you…But now.. now.. you've got to understand." His voice took on a desperate quality.

Mary's face took on a mixture of pain and fear. They had made no commitments to each other she reminded herself.

His hands gripped hers tighter and tighter. "I was tempted."

She could feel him trembling within her grasp.

"And maybe you're right. I didn't think about it a great deal." He said, deliberately using the past tense. "And that was shallow."

"I convinced myself to put you out of my mind. That we didn't mean anything." He took his hand away to rub his jawline and pushed his fingers against his cheeks.

"You left me without a phone number. Without telling me you were engaged. Without telling me you were rich and aristocratic." He shrugged.

"So yeah, I went to Ireland and got drunk." He guffawed softly.

"I met a girl in the pub. Someone who wanted nothing else from me but the same I wanted from her." He lifted his eyebrows and shook his head. "Which now seems so wrong."

"But as I was imaging you with Ronan…" He put his hands out. "I gave myself permission to do what I wanted."

"I thought we'd have some fun. And at first it was fun." He gave her a half smile. "I was stupid."

"We talked and we drank and eventually as I knew she would, she asked me back to her place." Matthew looked away.

"I nodded and we left. We walked outside…" He paused as he remembered. "And I stopped. I couldn't go on."

"Why?" Mary asked, more curious than she wanted to let on. Less disappointed than she expected to be.

"Because it felt all wrong." He said after a long pause.

"She told me what I could do to myself and we parted." He grinned sheepishly and tried to beg forgiveness with his eyes.

"How could you be sure?" Mary asked.

Continuing with more confidence, "She wasn't you," his voice low, strong and firm.

"I am sure because we do mean something. We mean everything."

He smiled suddenly. "You can be maddening. You can exasperate me. But as long as I know we're good…as long as I know you love me… I will be there for you. I'm not afraid of spending my life trying to understand you."

"I'll probably fight you all the time." She said.

"Life is messy." He said evenly. "It's ugly at times. We'll hurt each other. I'll survive."

Mary said slowly. "You told me the first time we met that to truly live you must take all that life offers. ...as it happens…not shape it into your own perfect image of what life should be."

"Did I? Well… I was trying to impress you." Matthew said smiling at the memory.

Saying a bit more seriously, Matthew continued "Well you said life's a bitch and accept the lot we're dealt. I'm afraid we've had our fair share of that lately."

He started to walk back towards her. "We need each other Mary. I need your certainty. I've lived far too long just for me. I want there to be an us."

Mary, voice cracking, said "We are talking real commitment now."

He stopped. "Yes." He said, softly wanting to take her in his arms but first needing her consent.

She asked quietly, "What are you afraid of most?"

Matthew swallowed. "I'm afraid I won't measure up to your standards."

"I'm afraid of losing myself in you." And acknowledging it maddened and exhilarated her.

"I'm afraid I already have." He let his intake of breath out.

They walked towards each other and their lips met.

Matthew suddenly grabbed her within his arms. Without thinking about it, Mary responded in kind and swung her arms around him and grabbed his backside. Needing to get out physically the built up tension of the morning quarrel they pushed against the wall near the staircase.

She gasped as the sensation of his lips pushing onto hers. They were rough. He had never been rough before. But rather than pull away she kissed him back. He groaned and leaned in further towards her body. He had her pinned up against the wall where she could feel him getting more and more aroused the longer he pushed against her. He spread her legs open with his knee and felt with his fingers the outside of her leggings, soft and satiny, until he reached the spot where her thigh met the inside of her hips. Mary moaned and hardened her grasp on his behind. She moved her hand to his front and heard him audibly gasp in surprise as her fingers reached the target she desired.

Collapsing onto rug near the stairs he reached, more gently this time, to touch her body. Matthew's hands moved instinctively inside her tank top to caress what had become his favorite spot on Mary's body. Her breasts hardened at his touch. They continued to kiss even as they undressed. Not bothering to leave the rug Matthew lifted her up to meet him and entered her as she gasped in anticipation.

Mary, feeling him moving inside her, needed him to take her. She wanted him. She loved him. She wanted to give herself over to the moment.

They lay back onto the rug. Matthew started to laugh. A deep chuckle that resonated throughout the small space.

"Well that's one way to end an argument." He finally managed to get out.

"God that felt good. I guess that's why it's called make up sex." He said looking over at her, not helping himself at all by smirking.

"If you think you can keep sidetracking me with your bedroom eyes you've got another thing coming mister. I let you win that. You won't always get away that easy." Mary said, reasserting her dominance.

He laughed and held out his hands to help her up. "I'm looking forward to it immensely."


	15. Chapter 15

_Many thanks to my beta's better half for the Secret of My Success movie reference quotation..._

_XX_

"Let's go!" Mary said, donning her sunglasses and grabbing his hand. She was impulsively resolute not to waste any more time. All the while thinking "Matthew was right. They're good. It was time to enjoy life."

They had both freshened up and Matthew was still buttoning his shirt even as Mary tugged on his hand. He left his shirt tail out and put his own sunglasses back inside the open top button.

"Ok. OK. I'm ready" He laughed as he kissed her hand. "Lead on my lady." Matthew was also very ready to take advantage of Mary's sudden change in attitude.

The Nottingham Street Fair it turned out was in full swing. The tents and vendors had their wares out on display. The Morris Dancers, carrying sticks and handkerchiefs, made their way down the street. And to Matthew's great delight it looked very much like a village cricket match sign-up sheet on the community center board.

Mary perused some of the antique stalls, giving a critical eye to some of the wares but others she put on hold with the stall attendants while she examined others.

"Hey "Matthew said, coming up behind her as she looked at some English Victorian and Ormulu clocks.  
"I didn't know you were working?"

"Well" she responded, pulling a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "you never know where you're going to find some little treasure. The library could use some decorative items as well as my next project…"

"Got it" He said, smiling. "And speaking of treasures, I'll just be over at that tent with the naughty French postcards, then." And he gave her a wink and a back handed wave as he sauntered away.

Matthew, poking around the various stalls, noticed some antique rings that struck him as particularly lovely. He tried not to linger too long while in Mary's eye line to give away any thought that he even considered purchasing such an item. He knew it was far too early to even think of it given the public nature of Mary's previous broken engagement and the short and somewhat rocky nature of their own courtship. But they did look beautiful.

A street pianist was playing various tunes under the cover of a tent on the high street. While on the village green a bandstand with enthusiastic locals blared out cover versions of Mumford & Sons.

He tried to tempt Mary to the face painting booth. She looked skeptical until she saw a small child with a bouquet of flowers in lively colors around her eye. While she tugged at her bottom lip, she agreed to the same.

Matthew could not help but pull out his phone and take a picture of this definitely incongruous duo the seeming unflappable and aristocratic Lady Mary and the crimson streaked dreadlocked Goth tattoo artist who delicately but with professional assurance brushed on the daisy and tulip pattern in a couple of strokes.

"Finally I see the point of having a camera on a phone!" He exclaimed as he animatedly turned the mobile around to show her.

"Only if I can get you back the same." Mary agreed when he suggested sending the photo to Sybil.

"What? Equal indignity?" He gave her a mock grim look.

Mary looked so happy. Her laugh was infectious and they both joined in as hand in hand they made their way down the street.

He finally got some real food from the vendors selling what they claimed were free range chicken sandwiches, baked beans, and chips. Mary got a salad and some water and started wandering again while Matthew finished up his meal.

She came back up behind him and placed a pair of bright pink heart shaped sun shades on his face and snapped a picture of him before he could protest. He put his hand up to his ear to adjust the fitting of the glasses and struck a pose and said, "Hey, Take another. At least I demand my best side."

And in the afternoon Mary settled down on the side as with the help of some locals Matthew got kitted out in some cricket whites and took his place on the pitch. When his turn came he struck the ball first time and managed to ground his bat behind the opposite crease without being called out.

When the teams took a break, Matthew walked over without the protective helmet to where Mary was sitting. His grimy grass streaked pants (from where he landed in an attempt to catch a ball before it struck the ground) and sweat soaked shirt did not go unnoticed by Mary.

She remembered admiring him early in his stay at Downton when he returned from his runs with close fitted clinging t shirts and beads of sweat running down his face.

As he walked towards the side, he dug his hand in his back pocket while his other went to his forehead to block the blinding sun from his translucent azure eyes. Once he donned the item, he turned and gave Mary the broadest, joyful smile she believed she had ever seen on him. She also believed he did it on purpose, though, as he knew she would think he looked adorable in that white cricket cap.

"Sure you don't want to play?" He asked, gratefully accepting the water bottle she proffered.

Mary gave him a side eye look and said, "No thank you. My Dad made me play in the village match every year and I was wretched at this perverse game. And I've never managed to understand all the rules….well…" she admitted… "I've never bothered to remember them."

He simply sighed in resignation. "Well, nobody's perfect."

After each side decided to call a draw as the parents needed to take the children home, Matthew promised to return the whites when cleaned. They walked back to the cottage where Matthew threw the clothes into the washer and sighed. He had to take yet another shower. He was feeling mucky.

What surprised him was that when he entered the shower Mary followed him in.

Mary touching his strong, well-built frame while he showered was an image that would not leave her mind ever since his first morning at Downton. At this cottage, which to Mary now seemed like a world away from their everyday lives, she impulsively shed her clothes and opened the shower door.

He turned to see her enter. He had been lathering up with the soap. She took it from his hands and continued to spread the foamy mix all along his torso. His body shuddered in pleasure with the sensations her hands exacted. He grasped her arms and pulled her close. They stood under the shower head kissing and caressing as the hot water splashed down on their naked skin.

The experience, a first for both, completely overtook their bodies from the first touch. The sensuality of the water flowing over their bodies as they first moved together. The sliding of their hands. The touch on each other's skin. His mouth wet and slippery over hers. The tongue dipped in and out of her mouth as he sucked around her lips. Her arms moved slow and leisurely down his chest.

The space was small though. Matthew realized as much as he was enjoying this, he was going to have seriously watch his balance. His mouth, now moving over her breasts and his tongue darting and flicking, was positioned precariously low on her body. He had to kneel to adjust.

"Damn," he thought, "in the movies they make it look so much easier."

"Matthew," she said breathlessly, "keep going."

"Oh." He said, adjusting once again to get a better foothold on the slippery floor, "I fully intend to do so." His words breathy and soft as he held her firm behind in his hands.

Her hands moved downward to his groin and began a pumping motion that also managed to keep him off balance and light headed. Her surety and skill with her motion, the pressure, and the complete responsiveness of his body made him cry out several expletives as he begged her to continue.

His body convulsed in pleasurable waves as her hand continued its rhythmic motion until he shuddered in release. He leaned his body into her and took some deep breaths.

Matthew, once recovered, grunted in contentment and pinned her against the back wall with his arms and he moved his hips closer in to balance them. Her breasts now pushed against his chest.

Her head was against his shoulder and as his hand moved in between her thighs. She murmured and purred in contented gasps as his fingers moved around and inside her moist center.

"Harder." She said softly against his ear. "I need it harder." He increased the pressure on her center and pushed his body against hers until the climax was reached she found her mouth and teeth nipped his skin and unintentionally bruised him. He would playfully say later it was a wound he would gladly have inflicted upon him again.

Mary had completely surprised him in the shower as she had previously been so private and practically shooed him out of the room when she wanted to clean up.

When they exited the shower he dried her off still enraptured by the contours of her body. He rubbed a towel down her long hair and slowly dragged his hands through the longer strands dangling down her shoulders. He drew her hair towards the back grasping her skull and massaging it at the same time.

"Oh God damn it woman." He said as he inhaled in the aromatic scent that permeated her body, "you are going to drive me mad." Mary lifted her head and he kissed her hard and deeply.

XX

When finally dressed Matthew began to pack up. Mary ignored the fact that he was just throwing his clothes in the duffle bag with no care to separating clean from dirty. That discussion could be left for later.

They managed to get to the train station by 8pm catching the last connection to Downton Village. Mary confirmed their arrival with Cora and they slipped in the door of the Abbey a couple hours later. They relocked and reset the security code as instructed.

Mary was just about dead on her feet and Matthew helped her to her room, took off her sandals, and as she slipped beneath the sheets he gave her quick kiss to the nose. She murmured a sleepy "G'night, my sweet Matthew." He grinned and knew she was definitely out and would not remember saying such a sappy endearment in the morning.

Matthew returned to his guest room. While he was a heavy sleeper when he actually got to sleep, it took him awhile to wind down from day's activities.

He placed labels on files and boxes. He was getting very close to returning to Oxford for start of Michaelmas term and he needed to take as much material with him as possible. He had amassed a number of boxes scrounged from a local grocery and he had filled them with files and photos.

A set of photos fell out of a file folder and landed on the floor. He bent down to pick up the sepia toned photos with care.

They were, he now knew, of a young Violet and her parents. He remembered the dining room conversation with Violet and how touched she had been upon seeing the pictures and then her harsh dismissive opinion of him when she realized his poor judgment had potentially brought ruin and disgrace on her family. He heaved a frustrated sigh at the thought and grimaced.

Finally, after returning them safely back in the folder, he turned off the light and slept.

XX

The next morning a rare family breakfast took place with Cora and Robert first down as they had to go to London on the morning train. Then Matthew arrived, took his usual place to the right of the table. And finally Mary.

They sat opposite each other and Matthew suddenly had the realization how awkward this probably was.

He had never dined with any of the family as anything other than that rather eccentric researcher from the basement.

No one was quite sure of the new protocol. Except for the clinking of utensils against plates, an uncomfortable silence prevailed.

Mary, taking responsibility to break the silence, began talking to her mother about her planned trip to London. Cora confirmed it was to set arrangements for the London house to accommodate Granny Violet's birthday. "It is smaller." Cora said. "And since we're going to have to ...uh...economize... it would still hold all the people we want to invite." She finished the sentence and glanced at Matthew.

"Well," Mary thought, "that didn't help." She sighed and continued to drink her coffee.

Cora then reminded Mary of her promise to get a gift, "maybe something small." Again, allowing Matthew an uncomfortable reminder that the family was in a certain amount of financial difficulties and without the golden parachute Ronan had provided. He shifted in his chair and stopped eating.

Trying once again to pick up a thread of conversation Cora asked if Mary would mind picking up Sybil in Oxford rather than have her wait for a train as that might make her late for the family gathering in London.

Still annoyed, Mary continued to concentrate on her coffee as Cora continued, "it makes sense, Mary. You're coming up from Oxford alone..."

At that Mary jerked her head up and said in an aggrieved voice, "Really Mother." She shut her eyes and calmed herself before responding like the angry teenager whose parent disapproved of a new boyfriend.

This was their new reality. Mary had to force her mother to adjust. This was what Matthew was trying to say in Nottingham. Either they were in this together, or there was no point.

"Of course." She responded smoothly but with deliberate emphasis on her words.

"We don't mind getting Sybil. Matthew lives close to her college."

Cora, who prided herself on her diplomatic skills in social protocol, tried to salvage situation but it continued to remain awkward until Matthew excused himself saying he needed to get some boxes into his car.

He gave Mary a slight movement of his hand to tell her he was fine and he just wanted to do this alone, he left the room.

But on his way out the door, rather than feel upset at the events that just unfolded, his heart soared and he had a goofy grin on his face. He could hardly keep from chuckling.

While he understood Cora's reluctance, and he determined to work on that somehow, Mary's reaction gave him great joy. She made it plain that, rather continue her need for privacy and individual decision-making, from now on they were going to be a team.

XX

The next several weeks passed in relative calm. Both had returned to Oxford and while Mary continued the finishing touches on the library project Matthew moved rather reluctantly back into his cramped college rooms.

He had shared an idea about Violets birthday gift with Mary. And in agreement on the gift, Mary arranged for some final touches to be added and professionally gift wrapped.

Their new status as a couple would be tested very shortly in public settings. While Violet's birthday was a family event on a Saturday evening, the previous nigh would be the library fete celebrating the reopening of the St. James Library.

The governing board of Lonsdale College had decided to go all out and had attracted the attention of the press as they invited several high profile actor and politicians and businessmen to attend the function.

Matthew was of course obliged to go as he was on the design committee. He mused, as he pulled up in front of Mary's condo to pick her up, just how different tonight would be compared to their first meeting in a quiet corner of the library.

Now he was escorting the managing partner of the design firm in charge of the refit.

And he intended to look his best. As he had said to Mary, "when they think you're down and out, you've got to go to the mattresses." Mary only knew the quote from a Tom Hanks' movie but she thought she understood his intentions.

Matthew had ensured success on his wardrobe by consulting Sybil. She had accompanied him to several of the better known London outfitters as well as the family's chosen tailor. "Yes." She knowingly sighed, "We have a personal tailor." Matthew just shrugged. He was getting used to feeling like a fish out of water around this family.

But after the fitting and fussing and adjusting, he had to admit the light Italian wool, clean cut three-button suit was incredibly comfortable while Sybil liked that the buttons on the jacket reach higher up on the chest and fit his tall frame. She closed the middle button, adjusted the tie, and gave the navy blue an approving look. "You're ready to face the world." She proclaimed. "Now go get her!"

Matthew had also splurged on a new(ish) car. This, even more than the suit, was his pride and joy. His college master Alan Lunquist's BMW335i was up for sale. Matthew saw the notice and went to see him to haggle. After a lot of talking and promising to take care of it with kid gloves…and after feeling like he just offered up his first born… he got Lunquist down to a reasonable price. Matthew had to shell out a big initial down payment and then promised another when his book was published. Matthew had heard from the editors at the Oxford University Press that they were now talking major general release rather than just in academic circles. All this helped in the negotiations. Lunquist now saw Matthew as a protégé. At least for the moment Matthew thought wryly.

Matthew had not told Mary about the car. So when he pulled up to find Mary waiting on her front stoop waiting for him he took her by surprise. He dramatically got out, smiled as she took in the car and his suit, and with a sly grin, he dramatically moved to the passenger side and opened the door.

"Bit of style my lady" He said. "Bit of razzle dazzle to keep the press on their toes." He winked as she got in. He was far more confident (at least in appearance) than she felt.

She tilted her head and shrugged nervously but nodded in agreement. They had decided to give the press the full court treatment. If they want pictures they'll get pictures of a couple in love and a man proud of his girlfriend's achievement.

They would give her company and his college good sound bites in any interview. No discussion of anything else. They had agreed to brush off any discussion of the scandal and force the interviewers to move on to another subject.

Once they arrived in his car at the library entrance, he moved quickly around to open her door. And almost instantly they were blinded by the cameras and lights direct in their faces.

The strobing and the flashing bulbs made it a surreal experience for Matthew.

But what most amazed him was that as nervous as Mary appeared in the car ride over, once she was out and in the spotlight, a preternatural calm took over.

It became apparent to him just how used she had become to the spotlight.

Matthew admired her ability to outwardly appear friendly and attentive even as he knew she loathed speaking to the intrusive media hounds. "One of those social masks," he thought, "I will have to learn." That was just a bit daunting.

Once inside the library, decked out in splendor with all the new technology on display, Mary and Matthew were then assaulted by committee members and library staff also wanting their share of glad handing and smooth talking. Mary gave each a few minutes of her time.

As she worked the room, unknowingly giving Matthew a lesson in protocol and diplomacy, Matthew was surrounded by friends and colleagues.

He got a very different welcome.

His friends teased him mercilessly by fawning over his upscale appearance and took the piss out of him over his sudden fame.

"Some kind of 'heavy furniture' you're carrying now." Jeff Knowles said. "Sure you can handle her?" He guffawed and slapped Matthew on the back. "She's a stunner."

Other than wanting to punch him out, Matthew shrugged it off and kept a straight face. "She certainly is."

He scanned the room to find Mary. She looked up at just the same moment and he mouthed 'I love you.' She gave a radiant look that was meant for him alone. But was almost immediately forced to turn aside to talk to the chairman of the library board.

Matthew swallowed hard as he simply could not take his eyes off her. The top part of her dress was sheer black lace with embroidery accents. He admired how it came across her breasts and gave the appearance of both modesty and a flash of skin at the same time.

The rest of the dress was soft black silk that came down to below her knees and formed a V shape down her back. How he wanted to take his fingers and move across her back and remove the dress in one move.

His imagination was running wild at the thought of taking it down over her shoulders and dropping it onto the floor.

"Careful Crawley," he thought as he came back to reality, "You might give yourself away." He grinned sheepishly to himself and dragged his thoughts back to the conversation at hand.

XX

They returned to her condo a few hours later. Once settled on the sofa Matthew almost spit out his drink when he looked over Mary's shoulder. She had received a message from Sybil with a link to paparazzi article showing the two arriving at the library.

The picture had Matthew opening the passenger car door with the caption "the_ Lady Arrives in Style with Dashing New Beau on Arm_."

He simply rolled his eyes and groaned aloud, muttering, "fucking suck ups."

Mary clucked beside him, "Playing the game." She reminded him. "We did good!" He wrapped his arms around her and they continued to snuggle. It all felt so right.

Exhaustion overcame them and they readied for bed. Matthew had brought a bag with a change of clothes. Mary, with a little slight smile, admitted that she bought some overnight necessities for him. They exchanged a private smile. "What." She said, "I thought you might want to stay."

They moved to her bedroom, changed, brushed teeth, and got in between the sheets.

He laughed softly, "just like an old married couple." He kissed her cheek. "I can get used to this."

_Ok. That's it for right now. But I'm working on the next section and alongside the Christmas fic already published on Tumblr will make up the next section I hope to get out by the weekend!_


	16. Chapter 16

_Good grief I'm in a real happy MM place in this fic….I can't help it…._

XX

Mary and Matthew luxuriated in sleeping in the following morning. Finally Matthew nudged her to say he was thinking about going for a run. Mary, moving her fingers across his chest, said somewhat incoherent as she was half asleep… "no not yet."

Her fingers were causing goose bumps and he shuddered slightly in delight.

"I thought I poked you too much?" He said turning slightly so as to allow her to continue to tickle him.

"Yes." She said, finally roused to throw her hair back from her eyes and look up.

"And we must do something about the snoring as well." Mary said eyebrows raised.

Matthew grabbed her and started to tickle back. "Oh must we…" He laughed. "Well my darling …one can same the same about you."

Mary responded in her best aristocratic voice. "How dare you say such things about a lady?"

"Oh" He said climbing over her torso to straddle her. "I can say much worse than that about a certain lady's behavior…" and he lifted his eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh God." She said as she pushed her body against his. "I wish I didn't have to go in today!"

But throwing him off her she said firmly. "But some final contracts have to be signed and I need to get some items over to the library."

He pushed off and moved back to his side of the bed. Throwing his pillow behind his head he laid back against the head board.

In their tickling session Mary had pulled off his shirt and clothed only in his sweatpants he looked delicious.

She said admiring his toned abdominal muscles and tickling the blonde chest hair, "Your sitting like that does not help matters."

"Good." He said, pulling her to him. She laid her head against his chest. His hands moved through her hair massaging her skull.

"Ugh." She finally moved to get up. "Ok. I can do this." He let her go.

She turned around on the bed to face him. "Um. Will you be staying here?" She asked lightly, not quite sure if she wanted him to stay around or go back to his rooms.

"No." He said. "Remember I have to meet up with Sybil. We'll get over here by the afternoon and you two can tell me how to get to Grantham House."

"We're driving?" She asked giving him a sideways glance.

"Well…." He said, struggling to justify why he wanted to drive rather than take the train and a taxi.

"You want to show off your new car."

"Maybe." He said drawing out the word.

She rolled her eyes and moved towards the shower. "Don't follow me!" She commanded. And he gave her the look she knew all too well. "I mean it."

"I'll be a good boy." He said, smirking. "For the moment anyway."

XX

Matthew met Sybil at the train station near his rooms and met up once again at Mary's condo later that afternoon.

As he did not want to crease his suit Matthew had waited to shower and change for the family gathering that evening. He returned back to the living room pulling his shirt cuff down towards his wrist inside the same suit he wore the night before.

Mary looked askance at him, a question on the tip of her tongue, but one she did not actually express in words.

"What?" Matthew asked, sensing her unasked question. "It's a different shirt." He shrugged. "It's clean." He added with a bit of a smirk around the edges of his mouth. "And" he added slowly, moving towards her, "a new tie." Matthew kissed her cheek.

"Thanks to me!" Sybil said.

Matthew gave Mary a look that said he hoped she understood without having to ask. He just could not afford another new suit on top of his car payment.

"Let's go." Mary said.

XX

They arrived at Grantham House and it struck Matthew anew just how little in common he had with this distant branch of the family.

"Welcome to the rarified air of the aristocracy." He said as he walked up the stone steps as he scanned down the crescent at similarly designed entranceways. The very uniformity forming a physical barrier in days past against the grime and poverty of the city around them.

In any other situation the idea that he should be concerned that this family was in financial straits would have struck him as ludicrous. Especially as this was their 'smaller' house.

But he also knew it was far more complex than the financial machinations of the idle rich. The family estate, Downton Abbey, was in danger of bankruptcy. This troubled Matthew in ways he would not have imagined a mere eight months earlier.

He understood, not just through his own research but long walks and talks with Robert, that keeping the estate intact had been the main goal of generations of Crawley's.

The Abbey stayed in the family's hands through war and the Great Depression and war again. Robert did not want to be the failure. It was, he told Matthew in private, his greatest fear.

And Matthew understood the worth of that most of all. It was his way into the mind of the family. He wanted to help Robert, both as a historian who understood the ties to land and heritage and as a newly accepted member of the current Crawley clan.

What he was most afraid of, however, was he would have to tell Robert that the best solution might just be giving it up in order to save it.

That some kind of contractual donation to English Heritage or another type organization would have to be considered as a solution to their present difficulties. It was the most obvious, and in his opinion, the most logical solution.

But then, he thought as he gazed around the vases, objets d'art, and antiques of the front hall of Grantham house, he did not yet have the sentimental attachment to every item handed down in the generations.

His emotions were far more personal and wrapped up in the woman approaching him from the door way leading into one of the rooms.

"Psst. Matthew" she whispered. "Pay attention. We're in here!" And she took his arm and led him into the drawing room.

Mary, moving ahead of her wayward boyfriend, walked over to the wingback chair and gave Violet a hug and kiss. Matthew nodded over to the older woman but was sidetracked by Robert who motioned him from the bar.

Cora, standing next to Robert, took Matthew completely off guard when she said how wonderful he and Mary looked at the library fete. She gave his arm a squeeze and said quietly "You looked so natural together." If she noticed it was the same suit, and Matthew was sure she did, she had too much discretion to say anything.

He swallowed and attempted to hide his surprise with a grin. He accepted the unexpected compliment gracefully and agreed that Mary looked simply stunning.

"Come on. Come on." Robert said clapping his hands together. "You two have been so mysterious about this gift. Bring it out!"

Matthew retreated back to main hall to retrieve the package from the table. He carried the elegantly wrapped gift and handed it to Mary who kneeled down next to her grandmother's chair. With another kiss to her cheek, Mary said, "With love from all of us." And she handed her the elegantly papered and bowed gift box.

"My, my heavy isn't it." And her hands shook as she took the package.

"Now you might have to help me." And with Mary on one side and Sybil on the other holding the box, she slowly opened the wrapping to reveal a double sided cherry wood with etched glass and double acid free matted frame.

The pictures were the ones Matthew found in the archive of an infant Violet and her father on one side and a young Violet and both parents on the other.

"Oh, oh my dears." Violet, said looking closely at the young couple in the picture, "Thank you." Softly, the words coming as she dried a couple of tears that crossed her cheeks.

She glanced up to see Matthew pursing his lips and swallowing hard to hide his own unforeseen emotional response. She slowly nodded to him in gratitude. He grinned back and held out his glass in a toast gesture.

"A good idea, Matthew." Robert said picking up on the gesture. "A toast. To Mama on her eightieth birthday. May God grant you many more." And he brushed his lips across her cheek.

"Enough fuss." Violet said reasserting her humor. "And enough talk about age. At mine one chooses to forget."

Mary and Matthew left a couple hours later. Sybil was to stay with Granny Violet for a couple of days until term started.

Matthew was glad for the privacy. They had returned to Mary's place and he paced the room as she poured them some wine. They had changed into night clothes and Mary felt comfortable and happy. So Matthew's pacing was getting on her nerves.

"What is wrong Matthew?" She finally asked. "You're driving me mad."

He looked at her. His face unreadable. He put his hand up to his face and stroked his chin.

"You look like you're about to cross examine a witness." Mary said, suddenly confused and a bit alarmed.

"We should move in together." He said quickly as if he wanted to get it out of his mouth before he could snatch it back. He blinked and pursed his lips so that his dimples showed.

He raised an eyebrow nervously as she did not answer.

He wrinkled his brow and gave her a quizzical look. But he refused to take back the words. He stopped pacing but did not walk over to her.

Mary continued to regard him. "Ok." He said. "Now you're making me nervous." He began again…

"It makes sense. We're at each other place all the time." He furrowed his brow again. "Well…at least I seem to be here a lot."

"And we have the opportunity to get to know each other….uh… combine expenses…" He was fumbling his words now…

"Yes." Mary said finally. "Yes."

"Yes?" He responded back querulously, on the verge of being ridiculously happy. Biting his lip.

"Yes. It's a very good idea." She nodded. He walked over and they hugged. They regarded each other more nervously than they should. It was a big step.

"When do you want to move in?" She asked, shaking the nervousness off her.

"What?" He said, shaking his head. "No. I …I thought we'd find a new place."

They stepped back. Apart.

"Why?" Mary said, in that tone reserved it seemed for servants and errant boyfriends.

"Because this is your place." He looked around at the beautifully appointed décor. "And it's …it's lovely… Don't get me wrong."

"But…" her voice taking on more of that irritated tone.

"But" and he came over to her and placed his hands on each of her arms. "It's yours. I want a place of our own." He rubbed his hands along her arms. His face taking on the appearance she knew all too well.

"Oh Matthew." Mary said. "Give me a good argument. But don't give me those sad, blue Crawley eyes and expect me to melt."

She continued. "This is a big decision."

He snickered lightly. And let go her arms.

"We don't have to make a decision tonight."

"But you want a new place." She said. "Is it…" and she hesitated. She had never brought up their difference in salary. Never wanted it to be a part of their relationship. But it was. And they could not avoid it any longer if things were to get this serious.

"Is it because you feel you can't afford to pay your share? I can help you…"

She said it calmly, in even tones. Thinking to herself though, "God how disgustedly aristocratic that sounded."

Matthew shook his head. "Well I guess if you put it that way…." Shrugged. "Might sound stupid but I don't want to be a kept man."

He hesitated and held out his hands. "And I know…this is the 21st century and things are equal and I shouldn't feel that way."

"But the truth is…" he said. "I do." He shrugged. But trying to make his point again he continued…

"But it's more than that. I know that I'll probably never make as much money as you. Certainly not as a managing partner in a design firm. Or…" and he moved towards her again. "Or as the heir to an estate…even one in financial difficulties."

"But I don't care about that. I love my job. I love doing research and teaching. And things are going well with the book. I'm satisfied." He looked at her.

"And I think you feel the same."

She nodded. Mary had to agree she was proud of his achievements. And how he had adapted his life to her own. Now maybe it was time to do the same.

"I want a place that we choose together. And yes I wouldn't mind if it was a bit smaller."

"Cosier." She said, agreeing to compromise. Surprising herself. "It sounds better if you say cosier."

He smiled. "Yes." Wrapping his arms around her waist. "I like that much better."

XX

After a long search over the next several weeks they finally settled on a narrow three story flat over a candy store near a 12th century church that Matthew found to be near perfect. Mary had to admit she liked some of the updated work the previous owners had added to the place. The hard wood floors, kitchen granite countertops, and built in book cases appealed to her sensibilities. Matthew really liked the small loft room at the top and the updated lavatory.

He peeked in the room. "Oh yes." He said, admiring the sliding clear glass shower doors. "I definitely like this."

Mary worked the owners on a new lease based on the sale of her own place and the agreed monthly payment they could take out equally.

The moving day finally came and while Sybil helped Matthew remove the most important stuff from his cramped college rooms, the movers Mary hired packed her condo furniture and personal items up into the van. She had sold some of her stuff including her bed and some decorative items.

They had chosen a larger king size mattress while finding the head and footboard at a thrift shop Matthew introduced her to near his college.

He nudged her as they poked around the shop.

"I won't tell anyone you were seen among the riff raff."

"This is a great find." She countered. "Look at these gloves. They're vintage!" Her smile practically radiated.

Mary had to admit the decorating and planning of the new flat was more fun than she expected. Matthew took possession of the loft and made it his office and for that she was most grateful. He spread his files, his books, and his papers all over the floor and book cases as well as his old sofa bed from his college rooms.

She wanted to get rid of the old, tired love seat.

"No." He said. "Not at all." He put his arms around her waist and felt her breasts against her blouse as he nudged her towards the sofa.

"I have very,"…he started to kiss her throat…"very" … his hot breath on her neck …."fond memories of that sofa." He spun her around and their lips met. He sucked on her bottom lip as he undid her blouse with nimble fingers.

"You're so right." Mary said, her voice husky as she moved to undo his belt. "What was I thinking?" And they fell back on the mattress laughing.

_So yes I know…lots of happy (a little angst…but not much)…chock it up to my need to remain in fanfic bliss… next up the same day! The Christmas fic already published on tumblr._


	17. Chapter 17

_This is my "Miscellany of Christmas Love" inspired by Patsan's MM Secret Santa idea on Tumblr. I was Orangeshipper's secret Santa so some of you may have already read this on her blog. I have added some material at the beginning to incorporate the story better into the longer fic. But the majority of it is the same. Enjoy! I had a lot of fun with reading everyone's Santa gifts!_

XX

Kate dropped off Pickles the cat at Mary and Matthew's new flat after she had phoned at the last minute saying the cat sitter would not be able to look after her during the Christmas hols. She had brought food, treats and a litter box and almost immediately left again for foreign climes.

Named for a cat character in a book his sister read at a child, Matthew now considered it representative of the cat's personality. The mixed breed shelter rescue could be tart and sweet at the same moment. Aloof much of the time, yet mischievous in chasing ping pong balls around, and to Mary's irritation climbing onto the counters seeming to check out her menu options.

The cat was presently wrapped in a ball with her tail around her head and in Matthew's lap while he worked at the lap top. He found her purring an unending source of soothing pleasure and he semi-consciously stroked her fur. At least until her claws came out and made it clear she wanted him to cease.

Once Michaelmas term started Matthew's life revolved around his tutoring and teaching responsibilities as well as starting to write the biography of Tom Branson. The work was to encompass his early life and interest in socialism and Home Rule to his employment in domestic service both in Ireland and at Downton.

The most fascinating part of the story to Matthew was Tom's ability to navigate the vagaries of aristocratic life in the post-World War I era while maintaining his own independent political views and private life as he returned to Ireland and served a stint in the Dail before resuming his journalistic career. Branson's ties to Downton remained constant through his daughter who traveled back and forth from Ireland to York. So Matthew had settled on the theme of Anglo-Irish relations through the prism of Branson's own life.

Matthew felt he could learn a few lessons from Tom as an outsider himself in the rarified air of privilege. At times among Mary's acquaintances at a charity event or some other gathering it seemed to him he was greeted as some middle class interloper whose presence was about as welcome as the devil about to push them into the lower circles of Dante's Inferno.

Or worse, in his opinion, he was tolerated as a kind of play toy of Mary's. One that she would soon tire of, throw away, and return to people of her own kind.

This was essentially his greatest worry since their argument in Nottingham. Even though Mary tried to convince him that Ronan was wrong. As he himself had told Ronan. Mary hated that kind of smug conceit. And even if at times she mimicked those qualities in speech and sarcasm, her essential nature was more down to earth and unreserved.

They were not really her friends Mary would reassure him. They had been sitting in their new flat after just such an evening. He came home in a funk and poured a large whiskey and threw himself onto the chair near the fireplace as Mary tried to stir the ashes into flame. She came over and knelt in front of the chair. She pulled a loose strand of his curled forelock back a top his head. Oh how she loved that gesture. He smiled. He tried to believe her.

Now, a few weeks later, sitting at the lap top and missing Mary he edged again towards self-doubt.

Mary had left Oxford for a couple of weeks to attend several design shows representing her firm to attract new business and to make contacts with design engineers in other areas of the UK. It had been a resolution of the partners in Old Church St. Design for the New Year to extend their area beyond the greater Oxford area. She was not so sure given the economic climate of the times but enjoyed talking with colleagues and getting inspiration from visiting both modern and historic structures.

She would be home in a few hours.

He got up from the desk and decided to pursue something more fun to shake this mood off.

After all, he thought, as he gazed out the window to the 12th century Romanesque church across the road, they have made a success of it. Had beaten the odds. But was it enough? He wasn't sure. But he did not want to push his luck at the moment. Mary was so happy and eager to start afresh in their life in this new place.

Mary opened the door to the flat. "I'm home." She cheerily called out. The cat ran up to her and purred as she moved and rubbed between her legs.

"Home." Mary thought as she threw down her bag and keys. "Yes. It is." She walked up the couple of steps onto the second floor and poked her head in to the living room. A live fir Christmas tree stood in the corner. Matthew was rummaging through a bunch of boxes on the floor muttering, she thought, in very un-Christmas like language.

"Huh." He huffed as she walked in. "I didn't hear you. You gave me a scare." He pulled himself up and came over and gave her a hug. "Oh you're cold. Get over by the fire."

"What are you doing?" She asked walking over to the boxes. "I certainly did not have this many ornaments." She turned her head up and pulled a strand back across her face. "And you had barely any at all."

"Well." He said a bit chagrined. "Mother came to visit." He looked around. "She brought boxes."

He returned to the floor and the boxes. He pulled out a little gold ball ornament and placed it on the tree. Almost immediately he turned around as he felt a tail brush against his leg.

"Pickles…." His voice edging up an octave as he wagged his finger at the cat. "Stop." He appeared to give the cat a warning look by furrowing his brow and crinkling his eyes.

The cat ignored him and moved to bat the ornament with her paws. Matthew sighed. He turned to Mary.

"At least she doesn't climb it." He said wrinkling his nose and pointing to the tree.

Mary tittered slightly as she knelt to pick up the cat. "Oh. Give her time. Our old kitty Bijou drove Carson crazy when we were kids."

"Who was that again?" Matthew asked sitting down beside her. "The butler?" Using his best upper class tony voice.

"Yes. And don't make fun. He was Granny's employee from when she was a child. Oh he was ancient but we all adored him."

"And you were his favorite." He said, a smile on the corner of his mouth.

"I was. At least until I took the cat's side." Mary responded drolly.

Mary, having changed her clothes into her night things, sat on the floor sipping a cup of spiked eggnog. She was vastly enjoying herself by scrutinizing Matthew's placing of the ornaments on the tree.

The fire was blazing and the stockings were up. It was beginning to look a lot like Christmas around the flat.

In a much better mood now that Mary was back home, Matthew could not have asked for better. This year had changed his life. He could not believe how lucky he was. A year of firsts: Their first Christmas as a couple having met and fallen in love just in the year. Their first Christmas having survived an intrusive tabloid scandal making their commitment stronger. Their first Christmas in their own place giving them the opportunity to get to know each other's foibles and strengths.

Then a voice interjected his pleasant musings. A lovely voice, but with a tinge of sarcasm on the edge.

"Don't you think the angel should go higher up?"

He looked over at her and scrunched his face. "If you think you can do better, my Lady, you are more than welcome to come over and try." He gave her his best come hither look and moved his eyebrows upward.

She left the seat and walked very slowly over to where Matthew stood. She stopped next to him so close she could feel his warm breath, slow and hard, on her face. He unhurriedly moved his lips across her face. Their lips came together in a passionate kiss.

He grasped her back and with a squeal of delight escaping her lips dropped them both down onto the floor where he started tickling her across her waist and up and down her torso. Then he moved to kissing those same parts of her body and he lifted her night shirt and placed small quick kisses on her abdomen and breasts. She moved against him as he continued his ministrations and felt his arousal.

"Umm…Matthew…" Mary said, trying to sound coherent even as she succumbed to his touch. "Umm… we need to finish the tree."

The last sounds she heard was a grunt as he took her up in his arms and made his way to the bedroom; a rasping, raw "later," as he placed her on the bed and removed her night clothes, felt her hips open to his hands, and feel her warmth and need equal to his own; and "I've found something more important to lavish my attention upon" as he proceeded to make intimate love to her until she heard herself sigh in utter, immeasurable contentment.

Pickles took the opportunity to move towards the tree.

XX

"The Christmas sing along in the village is a highlight of the season." Robert said as the family made their way into Downton. The snow was light and the night cool. Mary, fond of this family tradition, was arm in arm with Matthew. They were both grateful that the family had rallied around and supported them throughout the scandal.

Their first stop was to the local pub where everyone gathered. Robert collected the family together in a corner readying them to go out with the rest of the villagers.

Mary and Violet sat in a booth while the rest of the family gathered at the bar. Mary sat with her elderly beloved grandmother knowing that her arthritic knees would be flaring up and giving her much pain. Violet refused to acknowledge the reality of growing older and, with the exception of her cane, she acted half her age her intelligence and quick wit apparent to all.

"You've chosen well, my girl." The older woman said to her granddaughter. Matthew stood at the bar with Robert and listening to the carolers prep for the walk around the village.

"I'm glad you think so." Mary said, a smile forming on her lips.

"Marriage used to be a long business in my parents day." There was no getting out of it. Then it all changed after the war and now people on a whim can do what they want. No consequences. Yet they are still unhappy."

"That won't happen to you." She said firmly gently thumping her cane on the floor. "You two are meant to be together." She looked at Matthew trying to keep up with the locals. "Reminds me of my father. Strong yes, but also kind."

Mary put her arm around her and leaned her head on her shoulder. "I think you're right Granny. I do believe you are exactly right."

Matthew did not recognize some of the local carols that were traditionally sung in the pubs from centuries past "Hark, Hark" and "Peace O'er the World." But he gamely took up the words trying to follow along as the pub singers bellowed and struggled with the higher notes.

The cacophony of voices and sounds could be heard out into the streets.

"Every year I look forward to this gathering. And every year I'm reminded why I forget about it the other eleven months." Violet said, giving Mary a look both bemused and aggrieved.

Mary said, appearing to sound diplomatic even as she too wanted to push cotton balls in her ears, "Well they're enthusiastic at least."

Violet responded "Yes my dearest. They sound quite acceptable. As long as I've turned off my hearing aids." And she gave a tittering laugh.

Back at the bar Matthew remembered that as an acolyte in his local church his mother used to have to drag him out of bed every Sunday, saying the discipline was good for him. And although he no longer went to church regularly, he found he did know the words to the more traditional carols, "Good Christian Men Rejoice," "Holly and the Ivy," "Once in Royal David's City" and a rousing "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen."

Cora admired Matthew's strong baritone voice in a family that seemed to her one and all tone deaf. The family followed the crowd out of the pub and along the lanes and streets of Downton village. Matthew grabbed Mary's arm and led her down the sidewalk. Mary had to laugh at Matthew's energetic renderings of the tunes.

"Better to warm you up in an evening," he mused. "Hmm..." Mary responded. "I can think of other ways to warm up." Matthew gave her a wicked grin. "All in good time, my girl." He nudged her. "But come on…we've got to keep up." And he took her arm and they both joined in the merriment.

XX  
Matthew wore the hat. The red felt Santa hat Sybil insisted he don when toting the cart of donated toys around the Children's Ward at the hospital. His cheeks, red from the cold, also lent an authentic seasonal quality to his face. As did his laugh, a deep chuckle throaty and genuine, as the little boy in Ward III smart mouthed him about the quality of the transformer toy being delivered by an overgrown elf.

"Well Mary thinks it brings out the blue in your eyes." Sybil joked as she walked with Matthew down the corridor. Matthew gave her a sideways look and quirked an eye brow.

He was enjoying himself. The look on the children's faces as he handed out the trading cards, dolls, puzzles and games. The smiles he received and gave back. When Sybil suggested that his family join her and Mary at the hospital he was not sure what to expect. Kate had enthusiastically replied for them all. He had collected some more donations from his college and Mary had done the same at work.

Sybil had organized the whole evening for the kids on the various wards and units. Mary and Isobel visited the neo-natal wards and handed out candy canes to the siblings of the infants in the intensive care units and tried their best to spread some Christmas cheer with the parents who appreciated having the distraction from all the chemo and therapies of their normal schedule.

Matthew arrived at the door of the neo natal intensive care unit. He looked in to see Mary being allowed to hold one of the infants who was about to be released to his parents. They were excitedly telling her that they could take their baby home for Christmas.

Mary smiled as she delicately accepted the six month old into her arms making sure to gently grasp the baby's head and support the child's body within the blanket. She enveloped the infant into her arms and cooed quietly and whispered "yes little baby. Yes. You'll be home soon with mummy and daddy."

Mary also wore a cap for the evening. Hers was a multi colored elf hat with a feather along the side. She wore it cocked at an angle. And as Matthew took in the beautiful image of Mary holding the baby, her dark eyes peeking out in between the baby's head as she held the child up to her face and the hat, she took his breath away.

Their eyes met. He smiled. They, for a moment, shared an image of their life one day with Mary holding their own child, sweet and innocent, as he arrived at her hospital room with the infant carrier ready to take them home.

XX

The Christmas party at Old Church St. Design was in full swing. Mary, with a little pushing from Sybil, agreed to bring Matthew. The best way, they had all agreed to put the scandal completely behind them, was to go full out and face down the critics and the doubters.

Now that they were there, the office gaudily decorated with cheap trinkets and a rather sad tree in the corner, Mary realized it was going to be the same as every other Christmas office party.

Except for the fact that Matthew's presence made it different.

And for a very different reason than the fear of leering looks and cringing innuendo, she now regretted the decision to bring him.

He turned out to be the life of the party.

He acted as a buffer against the advances of Ken Wray. She would normally be put off by such an obvious paternalistic gesture, but when Matthew protectively placed his arm around Mary's shoulder, she gave him an appreciative look.

Matthew, a bit drunk on the vodka mixed drinks and ales, gave her a goofy grin and a quick kiss under the mistletoe. "Don't press your luck, mister." She said teasingly. But she had to admit he had the right idea to show them all in public that they were a couple, in love for all the world to see.

But that did not mean she would join in with him alongside the corner Karaoke machine enthusiasts who were belting out terrible renditions of Love_ Actually's_ "Christmas Is all Around" and "All I Want for Christmas is You." He stood among her colleagues, looking more at home with them than she ever did, and pointed his finger at her as he mouthed "I just want you for my own."

"Come on Mary" he said as he dragged her out on the dance floor where the sound system inevitably blared tinny Christmas songs. Mary realized that even though he had nice singing voice, he was definitely rhythmically challenged but made up for it with enthusiastic arm gestures and sweeping dips.

He lowered his arm on her back and pulled her close as the music turned slowed to "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas." He whispered the lyrics in her ear, "from now on our troubles will be out of sight." And she pulled him tighter and wished upon the fake Christmas star atop the tree that it would be true.

XX

Matthew had insisted that Christmas Eve be theirs. "Tomorrow will be for the families. Tonight will be ours." Sitting on the sofa and listening to "A Christmas Carol" read by Patrick Stewart, Mary was sipping on some hot cocoa. She knew they had made the right decision to spend the evening alone. The cat was asleep amidst the gifts under the tree.

Matthew moved off the sofa to retrieve an ornament that had fallen off the tree. Mary followed him curious as to why she noticed a new adornment on the tree. It was not attached to a branch but placed on one of the boughs. She moved to pick it up. It was not an ornament at all but a small antique bronze colored box. Mary, her hands shaking a bit as she anticipated the contents, opened the small container.

Matthew was down on one knee putting the little sparrow back on her chosen branch when he heard her sharp intake of breath.

He knew instinctively she had opened the little box.

He looked up from where he kneeled. She looked down at his beautiful, open face his eyes shining in the Christmas lights dancing and flickering making them appear more blue and brilliant.

"So …" he said…hesitating… "Will you."

Mary, trembling as she looked inside the antique box at the beautiful marquise cut rose gold diamond ring surrounded by smaller accent stones, put her lips together.

"Matthew, I..."

"Shhh..." Matthew said rising to get up and stand next to her.

"Take a breath. This is right. You've lived your life and I've lived mine. And now we've had this mad, intense, wonderful year. We've been tested. We've survived."

He swallowed, "I want to spend the rest of my life together with you."

"I do too. Matthew." She said, her voice calm but her hand trembled as he moved to place the ring on her finger.

"Will you marry me Lady Mary Crawley?" He smiled as he used her full name. It was daunting. But he was getting used to it.

There was a touch of exhilaration on the edge of her voice as she spoke, "Yes. I will."

Matthew moved closer to her. They looked at each other. "My darling." He took her lips into his own.

She wrapped her arms around his back. Matthew, happier than he had ever been, gripped her back and lifted her up and spun her around.

They both laughed softly as the fairy lights of the tree caught the beading and glitter of her dress and reflected against the wall giving the appearance of tiny pinpoints of illumination around the room enveloping them and giving the illusion as if they were outside twirling amidst the falling snow.

XX

_Next up engagement fun (an awkwardly funny encounter with Ronan included) and the wedding!_


End file.
